Cracks in the Foundation
by MistressNoriko
Summary: The reapers hit earth and thrust Commander Jane Shepard back into the line of duty. The stress of being the galaxies only hope weights heavily on her mind, causing her to come close to a mental break down. The ever humorous Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor walks off the elevator and into Shepard's life, proving to be her saving grace. (more summary in chapter ones author note)
1. Krogans Through a Stone Dam

**Obligatory Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. They all belong to BIOWARE, who I religiously buy games from. Nor do I plan to profit in any way from making this story public, aside from receiving reviews from my lovely readers.

**A/N: **Greetings! This is my first fanfic since 2005, and if feels strangely wonderful to be getting back into it.

While playing the Mass Effect games, I couldn't help but notice that, even though female Shepard goes through hell and back, we never really see her emotional side. We get snippets of it in Mass Effect 3, but not enough I thought. This fanfic stems from the idea that fem/Shep is a hard working Marine, but has the emotional weight of the whole galaxy on her shoulders. Being a woman myself, I understand the façade of staying strong for the people around you, but you can't keep it up for forever. So—I took my love of Traynor's character (and her romance story line) and used this plot line to flush out what I think is running through Fem/Shep's head through the ME3 (and how she comes close to losing her sanity), while also revealing what is running through Traynor's head that convinces her to pursue **The** Commander Shepard.

I will tell you all now, I'm really lousy at the whole military jargon, so, you've been warned. I don't think it'll affect the quality of the story, but if it does bother you, or you think I should implement a little more, please let me know in your comments. Also, if I have any blatant inconsistencies from the games, please please please point them out.

The rating is "M" for things that will happen later down the line. I expect the first handful of chapters to be more a "T" rating, but the "M" is a forewarning. Not to be confused with "MA" smuttiness, no. "M" as how describes it.

As always, I hope you enjoy and I cannot wait to hear all of your thoughts. Thanks!

_PS: Thank you faRENheit2006 for pointing out that my POV switch indicators didn't transfer over when I updated. I've since updated this and the story should be much easier to follow now. Thanks!_

_updated 8/19/2013_

* * *

_**Krogan Through a Stone Dam**  
__fanfic by MistressNoriko_

"Goddamit, it shouldn't have gone down like that!" Shepard yelled, trying to force her biotics to stay in check. A blue aura pulsated from a dim wisp to a now brightly glowing field around her. "Ashley's in that hospital because I was too damned slow!"

Liara clenched her jaw. She'd been trying to talk Shepard down since the cab ride back to docking bay D24, where the Normandy now sat idling before leaving the Citadel. The elevator ride up to Shepard's cabin had been the most tense, awkward, and uncomfortable span of silence that Liara had ever experienced with Shepard. She had made the mistake of asking 'what was wrong.' After ten or so minutes of heated talking, Liara abandoned trying to keep calm and not yell; it was hard to talk at a normal volume when Shepard started yelling as the conversation turned into an argument. Shepard was normally so calm and collected. The perfect gentlemen, as the human saying goes. But when she finally reached the end of her fuse, it was like watching a small nuclear implosion, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

"Shepard, you're only one person. It is more so _**my**_ fault than anyone else's that Ashley's in the hospital. She was trying to help _**me**_ walk to the shuttle," Liara said sternly. The volume of her voice was louder than normal, but she wasn't screaming like Shepard was.

Shepard's biotic field kept fluctuating. "I should have been able to protect you! How am I supposed to protect the whole goddamn galaxy if I can't even keep my crew safe out of the gate!?"

Liara shook her head. "It was your first mission since being reinstated. You're allo—"

"And I fucked it up, Liara! Ashley could have died! She could have died because I am out of practice!" Shepard balled her fists, biotic energy swirling in her hands as she yelled.

"Shepard, calm down!" Liara demanded, moving forward to put a hand on Shepard's shoulder.

Shepard jerked away, releasing some of her biotic energy on Liara. Liara was jolted by the slight push from Shepard, and her barrier instinctively went up. When Shepard realized what happened, it was too late; Liara shook her head. "Don't, for the goddess' sake, take it out on me, Shepard. So you think you messed up. Fine. Learn from it. Don't wallow in it. It isn't becoming of you," and with that Liara turned on her heel and hit the elevator button with her fist, a small biotic discharge of her own as she hit the button harder than was necessary. It opened immediately and she stepped out of Shepard's line of sight.

As the elevator door shut, Shepard did what she could to try and calm down but even her counting method was failing her. _You failed,_ was all she kept thinking. _You failed big time. Ashley's lucky to still have a heartbeat. Vega too…that stunt he pulled with the Kodiak could have killed all of us._ Shepard's fist balled up again, energy pulsating through her palms. _And he wouldn't have had to do it had I caught up to that fucking Cerberus mech in time. _

Before she really knew what she was doing, she punched the wall on the ship, outside of her quarters. All the biotic energy that had been ebbing under her skin was now focused in her right hand. And she punched… and punched… and punched…

* * *

Samantha rounded the corner just as the elevator doors opened. _Perfect timing, _she thought. She let out one last anxious breath. She had decided that it was time to officially introduce herself to her new Commanding Officer; she was the lead Comm. Specialist on the ship. She'd have to introduce herself sooner or later. _Sooner is always better than later, especially when later has a two in three chance of not coming._

She adjusted her grip on her datapad and quickened her steps towards the elevator. The Asari Doctor _(was she an actual doctor?_ Samantha thought) walked off of the elevator, looking rather cross. She noticed Samantha waiting to board. Samantha gave the Asari her best professional smile, "Everything alright, Doctor, er…" Samantha trailed off, unable to recall the Asari's name.

"T'Soni," the Asari said curtly. She looked at the datapad that Samantha was holding. "If you're headed up to see Commander Shepard, I'd wait for a better moment. She's rather… 'on edge' as they say." Her eyes were dark, not really focusing on anything.

Samantha swallowed hard and glanced at the elevator doors. "Thanks, Dr. T'Soni. But we're at war… will there really ever be a 'better moment?'"

The Asari blinked, looked Samantha in the eyes and nodded. "You have a point. But I did warn you," and she walked off towards the room on the port side of the mess hall.

And just like that, all of the anxiousness was back in Samantha's throat. _Calm down, _she chimed to herself, hitting the "1" button in the elevator. _You're just meeting your commanding officer…not some Comm. Specialist eating Collector._ Shivers ran up her spine at that thought. The effects of the attack on Horizon hadn't quite worn off yet. It had been about eight months since the infamous Commander Shepard had come and saved what was left of the colony.

She started to hear a pounding in her head. _Since when does your heart beat reside between your ears, Traynor?_ She blinked, narrowing her eyes just slightly. The pounding wasn't coming from her…

The elevator stopped. _Maybe some of the wires in the elevator shaft fell loose during the evac from Earth_, she thought. The elevator doors slid open, but the pounding sound persisted.

Samantha let out another breath, trying to calm her nerves again. _What is it about rank that makes you such a goddamn pussy?_ She shook her head, taking her first step out of the elevator, glancing up at the elevator's ceiling as the pounding still persisted. _Shepard's literally just another woman, albeit a heavily medaled marine, but still a woman. Women… you can handle women, Traynor._ She smirked to herself, thinking of several inappropriate boob related jokes. She finally looked down the hall with her second step out of the elevator, toward the Commanding Officer's cabin doors. She stopped dead when she saw the woman she knew to be Commander Shepard, dressed in loose fitting cargo pants and a tight N7 tank top, throwing biotic punches at the hallway wall.

Samantha was stunned for a moment, taking in the scene that she had walked into. Commander Shepard, a woman just barely taller than herself with red hair, was punching the hallway wall over and over again with her right hand flared blue, with what Samantha assumed was biotic energy. She'd never actually seen biotics used in person before. The Commander had her left hand at shoulder level on the wall, and her body was only a few inches away. Her punches came from her midriff area, but she still threw them with her entire body. She was grunting, saying incoherent things, none of which Samantha completely understood. Each word was accompanied by another hit to the wall.

The wall was dented. _Bloody hell, that woman is a juggernaut_, she thought to herself, her eyes still wide with a slight fear from seeing her Commander Officer denting the metal of the wall. With another hit, Samantha saw something red suddenly appear on the wall. _Oh my god, is that… blood?_ She took a cautious step forward. "Commander Shepard?"

The Commander didn't seem to hear her. She hit the wall again, and Samantha saw more red appear on the wall. Samantha took a few quick steps to close the distant between them in the short hallway, "Commander Shepard, you're bleeding! Stop!"

But she didn't stop. The wall made an awful crunching sound with the next hit that the Commander placed, moving the metal inward about two inches. Samantha noticed all of the muscles in the Commander's arms tense; every single muscle was engaged in that last hit. Even her neck muscles were tense, and her jaw was clenched so tightly that Samantha was surprised that the Commander hadn't cracked a tooth. _  
_

Samantha watched a few more hits, feeling absolutely useless. But then her brain kicked in; _her punches are roughly two seconds apart… so I have a two second window to not get hit in the stomach…but if she does make contact with me, she'll probably shatter my spine…_ Before Samantha really knew what she was doing, she charged forward, waiting for the Commander to punch one last time before she squeezed her arm in front of the Commander's arms and tried to pull her away, "Commander! Stop!"

The blue that was emitting from the Commander's hand now covered her whole body, but Samantha had moved her about a foot away from the wall, her hands firmly placed on either of her Commanding Officer's arms. She had a momentary panic about physically touching and re-positioning her Commanding Officer and how that was probably against regulations before she finally got the Commander to look her in the eyes.

The woman before her blinked, her bright green eyes hot with anger and some other emotion that Samantha couldn't quite place; it shadowed of guilt, but Samantha didn't know the Commander enough to read her emotions. The blue finally faded from around her and her expression softened, the anger seeping out of her eyes and turning into something that Samantha thought looked like worry.

The commander made a move to speak, but Samantha cut her off, thankful that she hadn't gotten to feel what a biotic throw felt like. She took the Commander's right hand in her left and began inspecting it. The knuckles were completely raw. Blood had already started to drip down the fingers. Above the metacarpals looked as if it was already starting to bruise. "Shit, you need medical attention," Samantha blurted out. "I'll page Dr. T'Soni. She's the doctor on the ship, ri—"

Her Commanding Officer shook her head, and gently pulled her hand back. "I'm fine, recruit."

Samantha ignored the fact that she had been called "recruit," and noticed that the look in Commander Shepard's eyes said that she wasn't fine. _Talk about the weight of the world on your shoulders… _Samantha thought. _Who am I kidding… she has the weight of the entire galaxy riding her back like a vorcha hog-riding a varren. _

"Let me at least run and grab you some medigel and an ice pack," she said. Before really finishing the sentence or waiting for her Commanding Officer to dismiss her, Samantha moved towards the elevator, hitting the door button. "I'll be two seconds. Don't move!" and she went through the elevator door, hitting the number three a little too hard with her thumb.

* * *

_You were too slow to help Horizon._ **Hit**. _You were too slow to stop the collectors from abducting your own crew. _**Hit**. _You were too slow to catch that Cerberus mech. _**Hit**. _You almost let Ashley die. _**Hit**. _You sent Kaiden to his death._ **Slam**.

The last hit engaged every ounce of muscle that Shepard had in her arm. She felt the wall give, and a wet sensation over her knuckles. But she hit the wall again. Remembering Kaiden's death now seemed out of place, but it stabbed in her stomach all the same. Kaiden had been a good marine, and had been a good friend. But she'd let him die, just like she let the rest of the Salarian squad die with him; like he wasn't ever a part of her team at all. She hit the wall again. She felt like she was about to start crying, her eyes burned hot. _There's no crying in war. _She hit the wall again.

"—ander! Stop!"

Shepard felt someone grab her arms and push back. She braced herself, flaring her biotics, ready to throw whoever it was. When she looked up, her eyes set into a woman she'd never seen before: She was just an inch or two shorter than herself, honeyed skin with raven black hair. Her brown eyes were large… larger than they should have been. They looked innocent, like the boy who disappeared back on Earth. . .

She dropped her field and relaxed the tension in her muscles. _Who the hell let such an innocent recruit onto my ship? Does the alliance not understand that I need the best? The Normandy is not a ship for Alliance initiation…_ As she opened her mouth to ask who the woman was, she was interrupted by the recruit's hand gingerly taking her right hand and moving it up to examine it.

"Shit, you need medical attention," the recruit suddenly said. "I'll page Dr. T'Soni. She's the doctor on the ship, ri—"

"I'm fine, recruit," Shepard said, pulling her hand out of the recruit's grasp. _If she thinks this is bad… she'll be vomiting after every mission. _Shepard let her gaze un-focus, thinking about the horrors that have walked the very halls of the Normandy.

"Let me at least run and grab you some medigel and an ice pack," the recruit said. Before she'd even finished her sentence, she was sprinting towards the elevator doors. She hit the elevator button, said a hurried, "I'll be two seconds. Don't move!" and she disappeared into the elevator.

Shepard wished she could have simply locked the elevator door so no one would come back up, especially that recruit. She could ask EDI to do it, but she had a feeling the EDI wouldn't oblige, considering Shepard's state. EDI was probably responsible for sending up that recruit up in the first place. . .

Shepard flexed her right hand and let out a long exhale. Her knuckles began to sting, but she could tell that the cybernetics that Cerberus had installed were already in the process of healing her hand. A low, orange glow could be seen under the wet blood on her knuckles.

She ran her left hand through her hair, and shook her head. _What the hell is the matter with you?_ She asked herself. She started instinctively walking into her cabin. The doors slid open, recognizing her ID. She hit a few buttons to keep the doors open, locking the door open for when the recruit came back. Ice _**did** _sound like a good idea.

She originally had wanted to go to the bathroom and wash off her hand, but found herself slowly walking to the low sofa along the starboard wall instead. She sat down on the edge of the seat and held her head in her hands. _Why, after failing so many people, does the universe still believe that I am the answer to all of their problems?_ Shepard asked herself. _I can't even protect my own team. My own home-world… _

Shepard felt the heat return to her eyes. Before she could mentally prepare herself, tears started to roll down her cheeks. _Fuck. You're weak, Shepard. _She didn't move to wipe the tears away. _Goddamned pathetic. You're one of the highest ranking military officer's in the galaxy, you're a fucking Spectre… and you're hiding in your cabin, crying. _

Shepard exhaled slowly as she heard the whirl of the elevator doors open and close. The hurried footsteps of the recruit soon sounded in her cabin. "There you are," came after a brief pause in the footstep pattern. "Thought you'd run off for a minute."

Shepard didn't look up. She just stayed still, holding her head in her hands, desperately trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Luckily, so far it had just been the well of tears overflowing, no shoulder shaking sobs. She ran her left hand along her face, trying to wipe away what she could. If she was lucky, it'd just look like sweat.

She felt the seat cushion next to her deflate as the recruit sat down. "Let me see that hand," she said softly.

Shepard finally noticed that she had a British accent. She'd met some good soldier's in her time who hailed from England. _All probably dead…the Reapers hit London first._ She clenched her jaw, feeling the well of tears start to build in her eyes again. She let the recruit take her hand and she leaned forward, putting her left hand on her forehead while the elbow rested on her knee.

The recruit made quick work of Shepard's knuckles. She cleaned them with an antiseptic wipe and slathered a little too much medigel onto them. She began to wrap Shepard's hand when she spoke. "So, what'd the wall say to make you so upset," she laughed, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Shepard should have laughed. She knew the poor recruit was probably terrified, walking in and seeing what she had seen. But she didn't move; not even a twitch towards the edges of her mouth. She was still pondering London. _Even if the Alliance had heeded my warning six months ago…would it have made a difference? Or if the council had taken action almost three years ago when Saren, the heretic geth, and Sovereign attacked the Citadel? Would _**that**_ have made any difference? The reapers are so advanced… how do you fight a fleet of technologically superior dreadnoughts? _

While Shepard was lost in thought, the recruit finished wrapping her hand. Shepard felt that she was there as she was tentatively still holding onto Shepard's hand. The recruit seemed to be waiting for a response at her attempt to humor the situation, but Shepard couldn't find the words. They were all choked in the back of her throat, threatening to start pouring out of her eyes again. She started to take in deep breathes, attempting to quell her emotions. _The recruit has already seen me beat the shit out of that wall… she doesn't need to see me fucking cry, too._

The recruit shifted, letting go of Shepard's hand briefly. A shiver went up her spine when she felt the recruit's hand come back to hers, this time equipped with an ice pack. The ice felt wonderful to her already swelling hand. But the thoughts still lingered in her mind… _how can I possibly save Earth? What the hell would happen had I died on that Collector base?_ Shepard could feel the tears hot in her eyes again.

The recruit's free hand was tentatively placed on Shepard's back, between the shoulder blades. It was a caring gesture, followed by a sheepish, "Commander Shepard, are you alright?"

Shepard's shoulders finally started to shudder and the tears ran hot down her cheeks again. "No," was all she remembered saying before she pulled her hand away from the recruit's and covered her face with both hands.

_There's no hope. How am _**I**_, a lowly human, supposed to solve _**this**?! And her mind went-racing-letting all the doubts she'd felt in the last 72 sleepless hours take over every facet of her brain. She couldn't keep track of all of the questions, the hypothetical what ifs. The faces of all her friends that had died in the last few years assaulted her closed eyes and a steady stream of tears poured through. The two shuttles that were vaporized as the Normandy pulled way…The haunting eyes of that boy she couldn't save back on Earth…

_The universe is doomed. Everyone is expecting me to pull some heroic feat out from the stars and save the day… but here I am—hiding in my cabin. Crying. Crying like a bullied child._

No matter how disgusted she was with herself, Shepard couldn't get herself to stop. Every effort she made only seemed to make her cry harder.

She felt arms close around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. Shepard, not completely knowing what was going on, wrapped her arms around the recruit's waist after a few moments, letting herself collapse into the recruit's neck. Wet cheeks made contact with the recruit's neck. The recruit's arms tightened around her shoulders, and Shepard heard her efforts at calming her down. But she couldn't stop the tears. It was like someone had thrown a squadron of krogan through a stone dam, and nothing could stop the relentless flow of water.

The smell of honey and loose leaf chai tea started to waft into Shepard's nostrils as the warmth of the recruit's body began to radiate into her. The smell was soothing. She didn't know how long she'd been here, crying into the recruit's neck. But the sudden smell made her sobbing lessen into quiet crying. The recruit had been rubbing Shepard's back, swaying her from side to side, still cooing sounds attempting to console her.

Slowly, the tears stopped; but Shepard's eyes didn't open. They were heavy. Impossibly heavy. She nestled her face into the recruit's neck, and tightened her grip around her waist. The smell of honey and tea grew stronger.

Shepard let the heaviness in her eyes take over, and everything was finally quiet.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed the first installment. I will be uploading once a week until school hits back in session and then I might drift off for a bit. But I am already well into writing Chapter Four. So stick with me! As always, please review. I'd love to hear anything you have to say about it.


	2. Adequate Muscle Mass

**A/N:** Thank you to those of you who have read and reviewed Chapter One! I was surprised it got as much traffic as it did the first night out. A huge thank you to faRENheit2006 for catching a pretty egregious error that I looked over when initially uploading chapter one. The problem has been fixed and updated.

In response to a "Guest" review that I received in regards to the "angst" level of this fanfic: I'm sorry to say that, yes—that is the direction that the story is headed. Shepard, throughout all of ME3, is on the brink of losing her sanity and suffering from PTSD (in my opinion at least). I want to show that; I want to get inside of her head and unravel all those doubts that she carries with her. I want to experiment in what it's like to lose yourself in your thoughts of self doubt, what ifs, and should haves. I know it's kind of dark, and might be a little tedious at times, but that's why I paired femshep with Traynor. A good anchor in humor balances out what is going through Shepard's head and is a nice reprieve for the reader. If you're looking for the all powerful, "here I come to save the day" Shepard who is hardnosed and emotionally impenetrable, then you've stumbled across the wrong story. I apologize if I made that unclear in my author's note for chapter one—I was trying to set the record straight there. I'm sorry if the direction of this story turns a few of you off, but I'd rather be honest with you than string you along.

So there you have it. For those of you who are still with me—please enjoy the following installment! I look forward to your comments, thoughts, and critiques!

updated 8/19/13

* * *

**Adequate Muscle Mass  
**_fanfic by MistressNoriko_

Samantha started tapping her foot impatiently as soon as the elevator doors started to close. She'd stashed her datapad in her cargo pants pocket to free her hands. She still had half a mind to call Dr. T'Soni. _You stupid git,_ she thought to herself, putting a forceful hand to her forehead. _She's not a Doctor_. _She has a _**doctorate**_. Gah! The Commander probably thinks you're a total squib._

The elevator doors opened and Samantha dashed out of the elevator, making a hard left and bee lining toward the medical bay. It was still a few hours before shift change, so no one was really out and about. One of the engineers gave her a quizzical eyebrow over his mug of coffee, but didn't say anything to stop her.

The med bay doors opened with a_ woosh_ and made Samantha's hair fall out from behind her ears. She frantically tried to tuck the loose strands back as she started opening random drawers. _C'mon… c'mon c'mon c'mon, _she repeated to herself silently. _I know we just unpacked everything, but why is everything so goddamned unorganized!? _The short run from the elevator had made her throat tense, her asthma threatening to kick in. Samantha shook her head, trying to fight off the feeling as she continued to violently open drawers in her desperate search for supplies.

She finally opened a drawer that had a spare medigel pack in it. She then saw a simple first aid kit that was on the desk and dashed over to grab it. With a frantic look around the room, she noticed that there was a small refrigerator unit under the desk. She pulled out the first ice pack she could find, closed the door with a little too much effort, making the whole thing wobble. She steadied it with her foot before running back out of the med bay, clutching her findings to her chest.

No one had used the elevator since Samantha had made her way down from the Commander's quarters. She hit the door button with her elbow, and did her best to hit the "1" when she stepped inside. She was successful and the doors slid closed without anyone joining her. _Why haven't you gotten anyone to help, Traynor?_ She thought. _Did you even pass your fundamental medic course in basic?_

Samantha still couldn't quite understand what was going on. She'd taken the elevator up to introduce herself to her new Commanding Officer, Commander Shepard; the War Hero of Elysium. The savior of the Citadel. Liberator of the Horizon colony. Destroyer of the Collector home-base. Shepard was almost an intangible, fictitious comic book super hero. Samantha had stepped out of the elevator, ready to give the long winded introduction she'd been rehearsing all day in an effort to stay aboard the Normandy—_but then that plan went to shit, didn't it?_ Samantha had walked into the hall to see Commander Shepard obliterating a wall with her biotically charged fist.

The elevator beeped at the top level. Samantha took in a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator, hoping to not find the Commander destroying anything this time. _I still can't believe I got between her and that wall,_ Samantha thought, glancing at the large dent that the Commander had made. _I'm lucky she has quick reflexes and registered me before she threw me like some Cerberus drone. _

Samantha's heart stopped for a moment when she realized that Commander Shepard wasn't in the hallway. Samantha clutched the medical items to her chest a little tighter, trying to quell the panic that was setting in.

_Why do _**I**_ have to be the one taking care of the Commander? I don't even know her… I'm sure Dr. T'Soni would at least know how to read her, _Samantha thought, thinking back to the look in Shepard's eyes after she'd stopped her from hitting the wall. _But then again—maybe she'd given up… she _**did**_ warn me about it being a bad time…_

Samantha shook her head. It didn't matter. She was the one who had found the Commander in duress and now she needed to make sure that she had the medical attention that she needed.

The panic in Samantha's chest dissipated when she saw the Commander's cabin doors standing open. Samantha quickly walked through the threshold, but didn't see Commander Shepard. She clenched her jaw, looking about the room. _She couldn't have gone to the crew deck,_ she thought.

Right before she was about to turn around, she spotted the Commander's flaming red hair over the top of the large desk. Samantha hadn't realized just how big the Commander's quarters were. She'd never had to come up to this level during the retrofits.

Samantha took the two steps down into the Commander's living area. A huge, albeit empty, fish tank illuminated the dimly lit room. Commander Shepard was sitting on a couch on the starboard side of the cabin, head held in her hands, both elbows on corresponding knees. The woman looked absolutely exhausted.

"There you are," Samantha said, trying her best to announce herself and not startle the Commander. "Thought you'd run off for a minute," she continued with a smile.

The Commander simply moved her uninjured hand to run down her face, but didn't say anything. Samantha saw the glisten of wet cheeks from the light coming from the fish tank on the opposite wall. _Shit… I'm no good at this…_

Samantha's stomach was in knots. She didn't know how to handle this._ One thing at a time, Traynor. Clean her bloody hand._ She nodded to herself in a self motivating fashion, ignoring the play on words she'd made in her head from her colloquial speech and the fact that Shepard _**literally**_ had a bloody hand. She walked the space of the room, setting medical supplies on the low table in front of the couch and gently sat down next to the Commander, who still hadn't moved or acknowledged Samantha's presence.

Samantha let out a soft sigh and tentatively grabbed the Commander's hand. "Let me see that hand," she said softly. The Commander's hand was easy enough to pry away from her face, almost limp in Samantha's hand. The Commander shifted, putting her forehead in her left hand, shielding her face from Samantha's view, elbow still leaning on her knee.

Samantha was beginning to wish she'd installed a medical program on her omni-tool. She brought the Commander's hand up to her face. _She's done quite the job of mangling this hand up, _Samantha thought, shrugging off the odd orange glow as a reflection from the fish tank. _I'll have to make her get it properly checked out tomorrow… she'll be lucky if the metacarpals aren't broken to shit._

Samantha leaned over to the table and tore into the first aid kit, pulling out an almost primitive sanitization wipe. She smirked to herself; _you're in the twenty second century, Traynor and you grabbed the _**one**_ thing in the med bay that is stuck in the nineteenth century._ She worked quickly, trying to clean the hand. There was a lot of blood that had already started to dry on the Commander's fingers. Samantha worked quickly, but made sure that she didn't miss any spots.

The Commander still hadn't said anything, or moved. Samantha began to apply some medigel to the wound when she noticed the Commander's jaw clench. She still couldn't see the entirety of her face; the Commander was still holding her head in her free hand. Samantha stared, admittedly, for the first time at her new Commander's body. Right now, even though she couldn't see her face, she could tell that she was beautiful. Fine scars that intermingled with faint freckles covered the finely toned muscles that encased the core of the exhausted woman before her. Even sitting in the slouched position, her stomach was flat under the tight N7 tank top.

She began to look up from the Commander's gloriously toned stomach, to her—_shit!_ She said to herself, her attention snapping back to the Commander's hand. She'd squeezed a little too hard and now there was medigel everywhere. Samantha busied herself with trying to wipe off what she could, but finally just reached for some gauze wrapping and started wrapping the hand, as gently as she could.

_I still can't believe that she hasn't said a _**word**_ since I came back, _Samantha thought to herself. She finished the roll of gauze and then leaned over, one final time to the first aid kit, grabbing a long, elastic fabric wrap to wrap overtop the existing gauze. _Maybe I should say something… break the ice… _"So, what'd the wall say to make you so upset?" _Oh god, are you barking mad?! Why on earth would you say that?!_

The Commander didn't move. No smile. Not even a frown. No sign that she'd heard Samantha at all. Samantha let out a slow sigh as she finished wrapping the Commander's hand for the second time. Samantha sat there, holding onto the Commander's hand cupped between her own two. _Maybe I upset her more. God, I'm such an _**idiot**_!_

Samantha glanced around the room, looking for something to save her from the deafening silence from the Commander. She looked at the table and saw the ice pack. She chewed on her lip. T_hat probably would have been better to put on _**before**_ I wrapped the hand twice. _She let go of the Commander's hand, leaned forward and grabbed the ice pack from the table. _God, you can't do anything right tonight, can you?_

She gently slid her left hand under the Commander's hand and used her right to put the ice in place. A small shiver ran through the Commander's body. _Well, at least she isn't completely comatose._

Something else changed in the air about the Commander. Samantha narrowed her eyes just so and saw something drip onto the Commander's pants. _She _**is**_ crying. Shit…_ She gently moved her left hand out from under the Commander's and cautiously, lightly, placed it on the Commander's shoulders. "Commander Shepard," she started softly. "Are you alright?"

Suddenly, almost startling Samantha, the Commander's shoulders began to shake. She shook her head left and right, muttered "No," and then began to sob, pulling her hand away from Samantha to cover her own face.

Samantha sat there, blinking rapidly, trying to understand what was happening. _Why is it that I can analyze live data feeds almost as fast as they're established, but when it comes to other people's emotions I am one of those damned Elcore diplomats?!_ The Commander's crying grew louder, her entire body moving with every inaudible noise that sounded from her mouth.

_Alright, Traynor, think… C'mon. C'mon c'mon c'mon. What would you want right now, if you were crying your eyes out? _The Commander's breath pattern changed; she seemed to try to be calming herself down, but it was making the crying worse. _What would your mother do? _Before she really registered what she was doing, she scooted closer to the Commander and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling her weeping body into her. She shifted in her seat, bringing up her left leg to rest on the cushion and turning her torso to be completely adjacent to the Commander's. "Shh, it's alright." _No it isn't… if your Commanding Officer—If Goddamn Commander Shepard—is this distraught, then it is most defiantly _**not**_ alright. _

The Commander started muttering nonsensical words. Samantha thought she heard, "Reapers," "only human," "Earth," "London," and something about a "little boy," amidst all of the crying sounds and shuttering inhales and exhales.

Samantha began to coo the Commander again. "Shh, it's okay. I know… I know." _No you don't, Traynor. You have no idea what this woman has been through._ _Your life has probably been a bloody cakewalk of a ballet in comparison to what the Commander has been through in her lifetime. _She was about to move a hand to the back of the Commander's head when Shepard moved so suddenly that it actually surprised Samantha. The Commander had moved, wrapped her arms around Samantha's waist and placed her head in the crook of Samantha's neck.

Samantha couldn't help but smile for some reason. Even though the woman before her was one of the most dangerous, top ranking officers in the Alliance Navy—she was still human. And, even though Samantha knew that the Commander also had about five or so years on her, she still had a small side that needed help; an inner child that probably wasn't allowed to show—ever. Samantha's smile turned into a frown. _How long has she been holding onto whatever it is that's upsetting her?_ Samantha questioned. She highly doubted that "_**The** _Commander Shepard" broke down crying like this after every mission.

The Commander took several rapid, deep inhales that almost sounded of hysterics. Samantha continued to shush her, tightening her embrace around the woman's shoulders and began caressing between her shoulders with her thumb. "There, there. I'm here," she cooed on and noticed that she had been swaying them back and forth, ever so slightly.

The Commander took in a sharp inhale, but slowed down on her exhale, stopping the hysterical panicky breathing she'd been doing. Her outward sobs shortly started turning into quiet crying. Samantha squeezed the Commander's shoulder again, this time she could feel the woman begin to relax into her.

"There you go, it's alright," Samantha said as she pulled Shepard a little closer to herself, continuing to sway the two of them and gently caressing her back. She felt so matronly; a feeling she'd never experienced before. She was always the friend who told the crude jokes at the absolute worst moment to make her friends feel better. She'd never really been the consoling type. Sure, friends had cried on her shoulder before, but never like this. Every petty breakup or seemingly catastrophic life drama her friends had gone through growing up was like watching a terribly dreadful romantic comedy vid in comparison to what the woman in her arms was going through.

Samantha rubbed the Commander's back, subconsciously synchronizing her thumb rotations to the rhythm that she swayed them. She felt like she was trying to caress all of the worry away. She fought the urge to kiss the top of the Commander's head like her mother used to for her, but she refrained;_ that is most definitely against Alliance regs, _she thought to herself.

The Commander's crying finally seemed to be quieting down. Samantha didn't really know what she'd been saying, but knew she'd been trying to console her with the empty words of a stranger. The Commander took in a breath and moved, seemingly nestling down into Samantha's neck.

Samantha's face relaxed; Shepard had finally stopped shaking, and it sounded like her crying was over. Samantha leaned her head down onto the top of the Commander's head, a gesture that was probably too intimate to be appropriate, but Samantha felt that it was the right thing to do in the moment. She moved her right hand up the side of the Commander's face. "See, everything's alright," Samantha said aloud, even though she didn't believe any of her own words. Her hand met the Commander's hair. She moved to tuck her red hair behind her ear and finally met skin. The Commander's cheeks were swollen, lukewarm, and wet. "Here, let me grab you a handkerchief," Sam said, motioning to move from the couch.

The Commander, however, didn't move. She stayed still against Samantha's neck, breathing slowly, but deeply. Samantha blinked hard a few times and tried to move to see the Commander's face. She finally, very gently, moved the Commander, revealing her face. She was sound asleep.

Samantha smirked, _I _**do**_ have that effect on women. _She then immediately scowled at herself. _Oh grow up, Traynor. _

Then, she started to panic. _Oh god. Oh shit. What do I do? I can't just leave her like this!_ Samantha looked around. _Who would answer my page at this hour?_ She thought as she saw the clock read 24:13, space Alliance Standard time (AST). She blinked hard again. _Have I really been up here _**that**_ long?!_ The last time she looked a clock it had been just barely passed 21:30 AST.

She started to think of what she could do. Should she wake her up? Should she just lie her down on the couch and leave? Samantha thought desperately, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do in the given circumstance. Then it hit her—there was that overly helpful VI installed on the ship. "EDI, what do I do?!"

The VI's voice sounded over the speakers in the Commander's room; Samantha couldn't help but stifle a grin when the voice that she'd pinned after for four months came through. "Specialist Traynor, if you are referring to the current state of Commander Shepard…initial scans indicate that she is suffering from sleep deprivation. I would advise putting her to bed," the VI's voice sounded, matter-o-factly. "Would you like me to hail another officer, to aid you putting Commander Shepard into her bed?"

"Wha—" Samantha sputtered. She looked at the Commander's unconscious body leaned against hers to the bed a few feet away. _It isn't _**that **_far… _"What's that supposed to mean, EDI?"

"Scans show that you do not have an adequate muscle mass to physically move Commander Shepard in her current state. I could hail Lieutenant Vega. He has—"

"I don't have the 'adequate muscle mass' to move Commander Shepard?!" Samantha rebutted. "Tell _**that** _to the women I've bedded," Samantha said haughtily.

"Notification ready for distribution. To which women should I send it out to, Specialist Traynor?"

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Nevermind, EDI. Remind me to program you with a sarcasm chip next time I'm fiddling in your VI core."

"Noted, Specialist Traynor. Would you like me to hail Lieutenant Vega?"

Samantha shook her head. "No, no EDI. I've got this. Just gotta get a good grip," she said, contemplating where to place her hands to move the Commander to her bed. She ended up hooking her arms underneath the Commander's and stood. It worked—for a split second before the Commander's body slumped down. Samantha let out an "oouf" sound, bracing her legs from the weight of the woman's unconscious body. She then started to force her legs to move forward, in a slow penguin like waddle, putting all of her effort into each step. The six steps it took to get to the Commander's bed took Samantha two minutes to cross. _God, is she still wearing her gravity boots or something?! How can a woman _**this fit**_ be _**so**_ heavy?_

Samantha positioned the Commander's body at the foot of the bed; her hope was to gently rest her backward onto the bed. That, of course, didn't go as planned. As Samantha started to lean the Commander back, she lost her footing and fell on to the bed, on top of the unconscious Commander. She instantly felt her cheeks flare red as her breasts compressed against the Commander's.

She quickly rolled off of the top of her and stood from the bed, wiping precipitation from her brow. Thankfully, the Commander only took in a deep sigh, but didn't wake up. Samantha let out a heavy breath. _Maybe I should start working out with Vega…this shouldn't have been so hard, _she thought to herself as she then situated herself in a seated position behind Commander Shepard, hooking her arms under Shepard's and pulled her, as gently as she could, further up on the bed.

Samantha moved out from behind her. She hadn't gotten the Commander all the way up on her bed, but her feet weren't dangling off either. It was as good as she could get without really man-handling her Commanding Officer. _Goddamn regs,_ she thought as she looked the Commander's body up and down again.

She vigorously shook her head and forced herself to look away. She looked at the low table and decided she should clean up a little before she left. After a few minutes of straightening up the living area, Samantha found herself scanning the room one last time, eyes landing on Shepard again. She dropped her shoulders with a heavy sigh, _I should probably tuck her in…_she then took a closer look at the Commander's clothing. The right side of her tank top and pants were covered in quite a bit of blood. _Why? Can't you just walk away, Traynor? No? Okaaaay._

She reluctantly walked back over and sat down next to the sleeping woman. She gently started to unlace her combat boots. They both fell on the floor with an undignified "thud." She then looked at the belt on the pants. _Never, in a million years, did I think I'd be actually undressing my CO. With my eyes, sure. But physically doing it? Never. And she _**still**_ doesn't even know my name. _

Samantha swallowed hard and began to undo the belt on Commander Shepard's pants. Her palms were sweating just enough to make her fingers slip a few times. _Jesus, get a hold of yourself, Traynor. I'm sure the commander would do the same thing for you, in reversed circumstances._ She smiled to herself as she unzipped the cargo pants. Now that was something Samantha hadn't thought about: Being undressed by such a strong, well toned woman. She felt the heat start to burn her cheeks again, and this time between her legs as well. _For Christ's sake, Traynor—you're as bad as a teenage boy who has only ever seen Hannar porn. Ugh._

Samantha did her best to take off the Commander's pants and shirt without jostling her around too much, or staring too long. She left the bra and panties on; no need to sleep completely naked on a war ship. Who knows what'll pop through the shuttle bay doors or the hull at any minute.

Before she stood from sitting on the bed, Samantha moved a pillow under the Commander's head and gently pulled a blanket over the sleeping woman's body. She had the urge to caress her face for some reason, but she shook it off. She let out a loud exhale and put her hands on her knees to stand up when she felt the Commander's hand fall gingerly into her lap. Samantha looked down at the Commander's hand; she looked to be grabbing for something. She glanced up at the sleeping woman's face, verifying that she was, in fact, still asleep. The Commander took in a deep breath and continued to search for something with her hand.

Samantha looked around, expecting someone to be holding an Alliance Regulations book at a threatening angle towards her, but she was still alone with the unconscious Commander. She then, slowly, cautiously, slipped her left hand into the searching hand of the Commander's. She might have imagined it, but the sleeping Commander looked like she smiled, and nuzzled into her pillow ever so slightly as she squeezed Samantha's hand. Samantha smiled. _Maybe working on the Normandy is where I belong. Really belong. . ._

_Oh quit daydreaming. She's still your Commanding Officer, Traynor._

_Yeah—but I'll always have _**this**_ moment._ She smiled to herself and, without really thinking what she was doing, leaned down and gently pressed her lips to the sleeping woman's forehead. Because right now, that's all she was—she _**wasn't**_ the infamous Commander Shepard, she _**wasn't**_ her Commanding Officer, she was a woman; a beautiful woman who needed sleep.

Samantha couldn't tell, she probably imagined it again, but it felt as though the sleeping Commander inhaled deeply, and caressed Samantha's hand. Samantha lifted her lips from the woman's forehead, but hovered for a moment longer, smiling to herself. She seriously considered, only for a moment, gently kiss her Commander's lips, but refrained from doing so. She bit her lower lip and then, slowly, and as quietly as she could, began to stand up from the bed. She gently laid the Commander's hand down last. "Sleep well, Commander Shepard," Samantha said, going into an informal salute that would have gotten the bellowing yell of her Staff Sargent in basic—but she didn't care. She was, after all, completely alone with the sleeping woman before her. _Well, EDI's probably watching,_ she thought.

She nodded and then quietly turned and started to walk out of the room. Before she got too far, she decided to leave the Commander a note: she scribbled out a quick note, pulled some pain pills out of the first aid kit, and filled a glass of water from the bathroom and set everything, quietly as she could muster, on the Commander's night stand. She then turned the light of the aquarium off, and hit a few buttons on the door to make sure it closed behind her.

She stood a moment longer in the doorway, the light from the hallway falling perfectly on the sleeping Commander's face, just like a scene from a dreadfully terrible romantic comedy vid. Samantha expression softened in an affectionate manner that she usually reserved for women she was romantically involved with. Shepard almost looked peaceful, lying there in the beam of light. Almost. _So long as we've got you alive and healthy, we'll make it out of this, I think, _Samantha thought. With one final smile, she nodded, forcing herself to look away from the beautiful woman that was her Commanding Officer, and retreated to the elevator.

* * *

**A/N**: Me again! Remember to review! I know it may sound tedious or bothersome, but it really helps to know what is or isn't working in the story. Cheers!


	3. We're Only Human

**A/N:** Just a note to say that I made one small update to chapter two. From the little research I've done, I realize that the age gap that I gave between Samantha and Shepard was too large. I pictured Sam to be around 25-27. If what I read was legit, Shepard was born in 2154 and ME3 takes place in 2186, making her 32.

Also, a quick thank you to all of you who have reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. There is nothing more motivating than seeing people enjoy what you're writing. And, in regards to Druzhnik's review: thank you for a wonderful and insightful review! What you voiced are things that I've been thinking about as I write. I haven't implemented any changes yet, because I haven't found a system that I like so far but will continue to experiment to try and get away from the repetitiveness of having two or more women in the same scene.

As always—I hope you enjoy this installment!

updated 8/19/2013

* * *

**We're Only Human  
**_fanfic by MistressNoriko_

Tree trunks were concealed by swirling black figures as Shepard ran through an unfamiliar thicket. Everything seemed impossibly slow, but the little boy that she was chasing seemed to move faster than anything around her. His incessant giggling resonated from trunk to trunk, causing an echoing effect as Shepard ran after him. He giggled, and dramatically switched directions, his white hoodie being the only thing that Shepard could see to keep track of his movements. Suddenly, his giggles turned to crying as she rounded a tree to find him kneeling on the forest floor. She ran up to him, still unbearably slow. Her hand reached out for him as their eyes made contact, but she was too late; the boy's eyes grew empty as fire surrounded his small figure.

Shepard's heavy eyes shot opened with an audible gasp from her throat. Her vision a complete blur, she blinked hard a few times and then moved her hands up to her face to rub her eyes. Her right hand made contact and she hissed. Her hand seared with pain. _Damn… that wall did a number on me,_ Shepard thought to herself, flexing her hand a few times. Along with the pain searing through her hand, she noticed that she had a headache and her nose and throat felt raw.

She sat up in her bed and noticed that sweat was trickling down her spine and sternum. _What the hell kind of dream…_She ran her left hand through her disheveled hair as she tried to make sense of the dream she'd woken from; then she froze, looking around her room. She was in bed. There wasn't anyone in the room with her. _What… what time is it?_ She glanced down at her omni-tool, it reacting to her touch.

It read:_ [08:09 AST.]_

_What the hell? The last thing I remember is… is… _she slumped her shoulders, looking up from her omni-tool. What **was** the last thing she remembered? She had been punching the wall… She looked down again, noticing that her right hand was completely wrapped; gauze underneath an outer protective fabric wrap. She blinked hard, looking at it in the dim light of her room. The recruit with the honeyed colored skin, and eyes too big for a war ship flashed into her mind. _That recruit walked up… and…and… _Then her heart stopped._ I cried on her shoulder like a sniveling child!_ she recalled.

Although Shepard was mortified at the thought of showing such weakness to a brand new Alliance recruit, the details were still a bit fuzzy to her tired mind and body. She didn't remember the recruit leaving, or even how she had gotten into bed. _Who undressed me?!_ She thought, finally looking down to see that the only clothing she was wearing was her Alliance issued bra and underwear.

She glanced around the room again, her eyes finally allowing her to focus a bit more. It didn't help that someone had turned aquarium light off. "EDI—will you override the light on the aquarium back to on?"

"Of course, Commander Shepard," EDI's synthetic voice sounded.

The light flickered on and revealed Shepard's cabin in more detail: there were remnants of a first aid kit on her coffee table. Her clothing from the day before had been neatly folded and placed at the end of the bed. She glanced to her left, noticing a glass of water and three pill capsules atop a piece of paper on her night stand. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned over and carefully tugged the paper out from under the glass, using her free hand to slide the capsules away.

The paper had very tight, pristine hand writing on it; almost too legible, too precise. It read:

_"I know you don't have a hangover, but I'm sure that your hand is starting to sting a little, so hints the random pills on your nightstand. I promise I'm not trying to slip you red sand or anything illicit. Honest. The water is to keep the galaxies' cape-less superhero hydrated; can't have you falling over on the job and turning into a prune because you forgot to take time to drink some essential H__**2**__O. So drink up. Refill. Drink up again. I'm no doctor, but I'm sure the doctor on duty would say something similar…minus the prune bit. _

_~S.T."_

Shepard stared at the long note, raising an eyebrow. Her lips slowly crept into a smile when she re-read the "galaxies' cape-less superhero" part. She read it a few times more, letting herself even make an audible laugh the last time through. Then she noticed (a few lines down from the main part of the note) a short continuation:

"_PS: Your secret is safe with me."_

This brought the seriousness back to her brow. _Secret? What secret is this _**S.T., **_person referring to?_

"EDI, what happened last night?" Shepard said aloud, not looking away from the neatly written final sentence on the piece of paper in her hands.

EDI's voice responded immediately. "Unless you're inquiring as to every action that occurred on the ship last night, could you be more specific, Commander Shepard?"

Shepard let out a low growl as she flung the remainder of the blanket off of her. "I want to see any surveillance from my quarters last night. Starting when I came back aboard the Normandy." She put the note down on her bed.

"Understood. Which screen would you like me to display it on, Commander?"

Shepard stood, running a quick hand through her hair again to get it out of her face. She needed a shower. She smelled of sweat, salt, and something else she couldn't quite place. She grabbed a handful of her hair and brought it to her nose. _Why does my hair smell like someone's cup of tea?_ she wondered to herself, crinkling her nose as she let her hair drop back down to her shoulder. "I have a screen in the bathroom, right?"

"Correct. Sending the feed to that console." There was a pause. "Transfer complete. Please let me know when you'd like me to start the playback of the recording."

Shepard turned her body toward the bathroom door but paused, looking back at her night stand. She looked from the night stand to the note on her bed… _I need to watch the video first…_she thought to herself. The capsules weren't ones she recognized anyway.

She shook her head and walked to the bathroom, unclasping her bra as she went. She took it off and hung it on a hook on the inside of the bathroom as the door slid shut behind her. As she went to take her underwear off, she noticed that EDI had the surveillance footage cued and ready to go. "Go ahead and play it EDI." She turned the water on and side stepped before the cold water hit her. She started to unwrap her hand while she waited for the water to heat up. She glanced up at the screen, opposite of where the shower resided. EDI had turned the volume on, but it wasn't blaringly loud, thankfully, because she saw Liara and herself step out of the elevator, and she heard herself starting to yell. "EDI, will you fast forward the footage until that recruit comes up?"

The footage started to speed up, the sound cutting out. Shepard half watched the screen as she unwrapped her hand from the first bandage. By the time the fabric outer wrapping was free, Liara was walking out of the camera feed and into the elevator. She stood for a moment, watching herself begin to punch at the wall at a comically cartoony speed. Her expression softened and she looked back down to her hand. There was a mixture of dried blood and medigel goop that had seeped through the gauze pad. Shepard began to peel it off, slowly, not sure what she'd find underneath.

Sound suddenly returned to the bathroom with the sound of a woman saying "Commander Shepard?" She glanced up and saw the recruit that had flashed into her mind when she woke up and starting piecing things together. She watched, midway through unwrapping her hand, the scene between them. _I had no idea that she was there for that long. . .it took a lot of guts to get between me and the wall._ She also noted that she had been saying some of the things—she thought she'd only been thinking—out loud. She went back to unwrapping her hand when she saw the recruit run out of the frame and into the elevator.

Shepard put her right hand under the running water of the showerhead, the water was still just lukewarm, but it began to wash away the crusty dried blood and medigel residue. She brought her hand out of the water and up to her face. There were tiny looking scabs on top of all four knuckles, and faint brown bruises covering the entirety of the back of her hand. She clenched her jaw—she had Cerberus to thank for the speedy recovery. They'd rebuilt her, placing fast healing functions in the cybernetics' that ran throughout her body. The same Cerberus that was responsible for Ashely's hospitalization.

She shook her head and ran both hands through her hair. She couldn't let herself start thinking like that again. She had to start gaining back her ever positive attitude. She looked back up at the screen just as the recruit walked back into her quarters, looking around frantically as she clutched first aid supplies to her chest.

Shepard tested the water. It was finally hot enough to her liking, and she stepped under the cascading facet.

* * *

Shepard finished looping her belt into her Formal Alliance pants and glanced back up at the screen as she fiddled with the buckle. EDI had transferred the feed to her living area, as Shepard had finished showering and needed to start getting ready for the day. EDI had also been kind enough to self edit and fast forward through the long bits of crying; only coming back to normal speed when something was said.

Shepard remembered crying into the woman's embrace… but she didn't remember physically saying anything while she had been doing it. According to the footage, she had mumbled incoherencies the entire time.

Shepard turned to grab her formal uniform shirt when she looked at her night stand again. She was standing there, only half dressed, underwear, shoes and pants were all that she wore. She clasped her bra together in the back and then moved toward the night stand to grab the glass of water. From what she'd seen in the footage, she didn't have anything to worry about in regards to this simple recruit trying to poison her. But she didn't take the pills though, seeing as the pain in her hand was beginning to decrease the more that she used it.

EDI slowed the footage down to normal speed again.

[EDI, what do I do?!] sounded the voice of the recruit.

Shepard glanced up at the screen, seeing the recruit starting to look like she was beginning to panic. It looked like she'd passed out on top of the recruit.

[Specialist Traynor, if you are referring to the current state of Commander Shepard…initial scans indicate that she is suffering from sleep deprivation. I would advise putting her to bed.] There was a pause from EDI. [Would you like me to hail another officer, to aid you putting Commander Shepard into her bed?]

[Wha—] sputtered from the recruit's, apparently a specialist, mouth. Specialist Traynor looked at Shepard's sleeping body and then to Shepard's bed and pouted her bottom lip out. [What's that supposed to mean, EDI?]

[Scans show that you do not have an adequate muscle mass to physically move Commander Shepard in her current state.] Commander Shepard chuckled at that, eyeing the Specialist and concurring with EDI. [I could hail Lieutenant Vega. He has—]

[I don't have the 'adequate muscle mass' to move Commander Shepard?!] Specialist Traynor spat. [Tell **that** to the women I've bedded,] she said haughtily, getting another low chuckle from Shepard as she took a sip from the water glass. She was starting to find the Specialist quite humorous, and intriguing. Apparently the beautiful, honey skinned recruit swung both ways, which for some reason made Shepard smile.

EDI's voice sounded again. [Notification ready for distribution. To which women should I send it out to, Specialist Traynor?]

Shepard choked on the water she had just drunk. She forced herself to cough, fitting back tears from the pain radiating from the back of her throat. When she finally swallowed, gasping slightly for air, EDI's voice sounded overhead, "Are you alright, Commander Shepdard."

"Yup," Shepard coughed again. "That was just a good one, EDI," Shepard smiled, still trying to clear her throat.

"Thank you," EDI's voice sounded from the rooms speakers. "I thought it was an adequate response to get Specialist Traynor to calm down at the time. The joke seemed to have worked."

Shepard took a cautious sip of water, trying to alleviate the raw feeling she now had in the back of her throat. EDI continued the recording, speeding up the footage. Shepard put the glass down and continued to watch the footage, making no movement to finish getting dressed. She brought a hand up to her mouth and giggled; a sound the marine very rarely made. The fast forwarding action of the Specialist waddling Shepard's unconscious body to the bed was quite comical.

Shepard stood there smiling, left arm across her chest with her right elbow in her left hand and her right hand up by her mouth. She watched the Specialist struggle getting her unconscious body into bed. She made a quiet chuckle when the Specialist fell on top of her passed out form; it was still more comical because of the fast speed of the playback.

The Specialist, from what Shepard could tell on the fast forwarded footage, was diligently trying to make Shepard as comfortable as possible. Shepard asked EDI to slow the playback down to just slightly faster than full speed and asked her to zoom in on where the two were. EDI complied, quickly doing as she was asked. The closer zoom revealed just how nervous the Specialist looked… and how badly she was blushing while she fought with Shepard's belt.

Shepard brought her hand down, away from her mouth, and crossed both hands over her chest and narrowed her eyes as she watched. The Specialist's hands hovered over Shepard's body for a moment after getting Shepard's shirt off. Shepard noticed the Specialist take in a deep breath, look around the room and move her hands to her knees to stand. Shepard blinked, narrowing her eyes when she noticed that she'd then reached out for the Specialist as she was moving to stand. "EDI, slow it to real time."

"Of course, Commander," EDI sounded, already playing the footage at normal speed.

Shepard watched the nervousness doubled in the Specialist's face. She glanced around the room again, but when she looked back at Shepard she began to calm down. She then smiled and slid her hand into Shepard's searching one. She stayed like that for a few moments, and then, to Shepard's surprise, leaned forward and kissed Shepard's forehead. Shepard's eyes went wide, hand subconsciously going up to her forehead where the Specialist had kissed her. She then watched the Specialist stand, feebly salute her sleeping body, and turn to leave. She paused at the desk and started to write a note.

"EDI," Shepard started, grabbing the shirt she'd pulled out earlier. "I need Specialist Traynor's dossier on my datapad. Now." She pulled the shirt over her shoulders, but didn't begin to fasten the front of it, leaving her torso relatively exposed.

"Understood Commander Shepard," EDI complied. "You have it now."

Shepard felt her neck tense and her jaw clench and she walked to her desk. She picked up her datapad from next to her personal console. "Does she have an active request to be stationed on the Normandy?" she asked as she opened Specialist Traynor's dossier file.

"She does," EDI sounded again. "I would prefer it i—"

"Deny the request," Shepard interrupted. Shepard had a feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't anger. It wasn't worry. She didn't know what the feeling was. Embarrassment, maybe? But she knew she couldn't have that woman on the ship.

"Commander," EDI's synthetic voice sounded.

Shepard imagined that EDI had made it a question, even though there was no inflection in her synthetic voice. "It wasn't a question, EDI. Deny the request." Shepard clenched her jaw. She couldn't have a subordinate who had seen her so vulnerable on the ship. It didn't bode well for moral if the woman let it out that her Commanding Officer had spent hours sobbing on her shoulder, whimpering about reapers and how unfair the war and life was.

She looked at a picture of Specialist Traynor in the dossier that she held in her hand. The woman was gorgeous; gentle eyes that had an instant calming effect on Shepard's tense thoughts. In Specialist Traynor's Alliance photo, she still had a playful smirk on her face, even though regulations strictly state that all personnel photos had to have an emotionally neutral expression.

"Commander Shepard, might I make a suggestion."

Shepard didn't respond to EDI. She continued to look at Specialist Traynor's photo. _She'd only get herself killed on this crew,_ Shepard thought. _I can't condemn her to die._

_But you'd condemn her to her death if you _**didn't**_ let her serve on your crew,_ another voice in the back of her mind chimed. _You'd be able to keep her safe; safer than any colony right now. _

Shepard shook her head. _I couldn't keep Ashley or Liara safe yesterday._

_True—but Specialist Traynor is a Comm. Specialist. She would hardly leave the ship. She'd be there, waiting for you, every time you boarded the Normandy. . . _

Shepard let her thoughts slip into that of a less than professional nature, imagining being greeted with a passionate kiss and embrace as she looked into the eyes of Specialist Traynor's photo. Her large brown eyes looked so innocent. Like she'd never seen combat. Seen war. _I can't ruin her. I can't have her on my ship…_

_Can't have her on your ship? Or is it that you don't want the temptation of falling for her?_

"Commander Shepard," EDI sounded again.

"EDI—I gave you an order. Deny the request for Specialist Traynor to join the Normandy," she growled back.

"Commander Shepard Spe—"

"I. Gave. You. An. Order." Shepard said, each word forcefully articulated as she spoke over EDI.

"Specialist Traynor has just exited the elevator to your cabin deck."

Shepard's eyes darted towards the door and then down to her torso. She dropped the datapad onto her desk and started fastening her shirt together. She had three buttons left when there was a request to entry notification from the holo on the door.

"Enter," Shepard sputtered, fighting with the third to last fasten. Her hands were just slightly starting to sweat. She'd never had to tell someone that she didn't want them serving with her and her crew. She wasn't looking forward to the next few minutes.

The door slid open and an oddly familiar, yet unfamiliar face walked in. Specialist Traynor rounded the corner of Shepard's desk and stood in a proper salute. "Commander Shepard, I'm Specialist-oh. Oh ah, oh I beg your pardon. I can come back after you've dressed, Commander," the Specialist stammered nervously.

Shepard waved a hand at her. "At ease, Specialist," she said, finally getting the stubborn fasten to go through. _It's not like she hasn't already seen what's underneath. _She left the last two for now. She looked up to see Specialist Traynor drop her salute, but stayed at a very ridged attention. Shepard noticed a slight tinge of pink to the Specialist's cheeks. _When was the last time you made a woman blush,_ that small voice in the back of her head chimed annoyingly.

"Right. Um," Specialist Traynor started. "I'm Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor… with Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the alliance."

Shepard wished that she'd had time to go over Specialist Traynor's dossier before she had to speak with her. She didn't know how to start…but ultimately, she didn't know how to turn down the Specialist's request to be stationed on the Normandy. Before she could get a word in, the Specialist continued.

* * *

It was 08:30 AST. Samantha was fighting the urge to bite her finger nails; she had only gotten two hours of restless sleep before her shift at the CIC started. She stood at her console next to the galaxy map and stifled a yawn. There were plenty of things that needed her attention, especially some messages from the Turian fleet on Palaven that were extremely damaged and difficult to decode. She'd spent the last two hours working diligently on several that came through. She had just opened her sixth encoded message when she noticed the time.

_I'm surprised that Commander Shepard hasn't made an appearance on the CIC yet,_ she anxiously thought to herself. Glancing around, Samantha saw that no one was remotely close to her or her screen. She bit her lower lip and hacked into the elevator logs. _Maybe she went to the shuttle bay to calibrate her gun…or something_, she thought as she started typing. After a minute or so of hacking around the perpetually helpful, but often times nosey, VI's firewalls, Samantha finally gained access to the logs. After a quick read, she noticed that there hadn't been activity up to the Commander's quarters, which meant that the Commander had not left her quarters yet.

_Oh god,_ Samantha's mind started. _What if she has some deathly allergic reaction to medigel and she's lying in bed dead?! _her mind raced irrationally. _Oh I knew I should have gotten someone's help._ She continued to bite her lower lip and then tried to mentally calm herself down. _Give it until 09:00. If there _**still**_ hasn't been any activity, then just go and check. . ._

She closed out of the log; it had been easy enough for her to pass through the security. If she kept it opened she feared that the ship's VI would notice.

Samantha busied herself with decoding the message from Palaven she'd pulled up, but couldn't stop herself from tapping her heel to try and make the time move faster. The message was heavily encrypted, but she knew she'd break it at some point. She was trying to pinpoint the location of the of the strike force that was doing reconnaissance on Menae, Palaven's largest moon. She'd narrowed down the search parameters to one fourth of the moon, simply through the messages that she'd been intercepting. _I'm sure when we get there, we'll be able to see the bloody reapers,_ Samantha darkly thought to herself, forcing herself not to look at the clock.

08:56 AST, Samantha couldn't hold out for the next four minutes to pass and accessed the elevator logs again. There still hadn't been any activity to or from the Commander's quarters. Before she let herself get distraught, she closed the log and pulled up another, logging the water flow in the ship. It took less time to access, but more time to pinpoint what she was looking for. The ship automatically logged everything—from how many times the water runs from a faucet, is flushed, or used in the shower. She finally pinpointed the location of the Commander's cabin and read that a shower had stopped running about thirty minutes prior. Samantha relaxed her hands on her keyboard and let out the breath that she'd been holding. The muscles in her shoulders and neck relaxed. She then slowly started to feel a smile creep onto her face. _She must have needed the sleep,_ she thought.

Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the sleeping Commander's body, before she left the night before. Even while she was completely unconscious, Commander Shepard had the most defined muscles on a woman that Samantha had ever seen in person. Not the chiseled, protruding muscles—no. Shepard's muscles were long, lean muscles under soft skin. Human skin. The Commander wasn't some fictitious comic book super hero anymore to Samantha; the Commander was a real woman, and a beautiful woman at that. A woman that gave her adolescent butterflies whenever she thought about her.

She shook her head, running a slightly sweaty palm over her face to try and get herself to stop smirking at the image of her CO in her head. _You're going to get yourself in trouble, Traynor. Keep having thoughts like that and you're bound to blurt something inappropriate out and blunder yourself in front of her. Then you'll for sure be thrown off of the Normandy for disregarding fraternization regulations. _

She let out another exhale, this time prepping herself to go and talk to her Commander and actually introduce herself. _No one will miss me on the CIC,_ she thought, looking around. _I'll just be a few minutes…Oh, I'll explain the new layout of the ship!_ she thought, grabbing her datapad and pulling up the retrofit file she'd compiled for a report she put in as they were docked at the Citadel. _That'll at least give you a reason to intrude on your CO again, at any rate._

She nodded to herself, in her ever self motivating fashion and then turned on her heal towards the elevator. She nodded to an engineer as he passed her work station and then pressed the elevator button. It took a few moments for the doors to slide open. She stepped to the side, allowing the crew inside to step off and then she walked on and pressed "1." The nervousness from the day before slowly started to skulk back into her stomach.

Samantha concentrated on her breathing. She didn't want to be flushed or anxious when she met her Commanding Officer this time. She'd made the decision yesterday, while they were docked at the Citadel that she wanted to be stationed on the Normandy. She couldn't think of a better place that she could be to help with the war effort. Since they'd already left port, she figured that the request had been accepted, but she still felt that she had to prove herself to Commander Shepard. Shepard was known for having small, close-knit teams that worked flawlessly together, accomplishing impossible feats all over the galaxy. She wanted to be a part of that team.

_Do you want to be a part of a team… or do you want to try and wriggle your way into your Commanding Officer's personal life? _she thought to herself, suppressing a smirk as the elevator opened on Commander Shepard's deck. She walked slowly to the door of Shepard's quarters and let out a long breath before knocking. She didn't want her subconscious infatuation with Shepard's body to interfere with her second chance at her first impression.

She heard the muffled sound of "Enter," from Shepard inside the cabin. The door beeped and slid open. She walked through, noticing Commander Shepard standing by her desk. Samantha went into a full salute. "Commander Shepard, I'm Specialist—oh," she stopped. Commander Shepard's bra was still visible as she attempted to finish fastening her shirt together. It wasn't the bra that made Samantha blush; it was standard issue, nothing fancy about it, just like her own. It was the fact that she saw the skin of Shepard's breasts again that made her cheeks flush. "Oh ah, oh I beg your pardon. I can come back after you've dressed, Commander," Samantha managed, the image of Shepard's sleeping body last night flashing through her mind. She felt the heat on her cheeks and immediately started to curse herself in her head.

Shepard waved a hand at her. "At ease, Specialist." Shepard finally finished fussing with the fastening and left the last two alone, leaving the base of her neck more visible than the formal uniform typically allowed. She looked up at Samantha, but avoided her gaze. She looked like she had just interrupted Shepard deep in thought.

Samantha dropped her salute, but reminded herself that she was still in the presence of her Commanding Officer and stood at attention. "Right. Um," she started. _Remember, you don't get a third chance at a first impression…_"I'm Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor… with Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the alliance," she said, stuttering over a few words as she spoke too quickly.

Then something happened that Samantha wasn't expecting. Shepard smiled. She put up a hand, motioning towards Samantha. "Slow down, Specialist Traynor."

Samantha let off a nervous smile. "Sorry Commander. I worked in a lab; I'm not really used to reporting to a Commanding Officer. So I'm a bit out of practice I guess," she said before she could filter herself. _She doesn't care, Traynor. Right now you're just another squib taking up her time._ She felt her cheeks burn hotter.

"You're doing fine, Traynor," Shepard said, shifting her weight to her left hip and leaning slightly away from Samantha, crossing her arms over her stomach.

"Thank you," Samantha said, bringing a nervous hand up and instinctively tucking her hair behind her ear. "I never thought that I'd be working on an active war ship. I was on the ship working on retrofits when the Reapers hit Earth…" Samantha trailed off, the image of red beams annihilating buildings still too fresh in her mind. She closed her eyes, mentally shook herself out of it and continued, "In any event, I am honored to serve under you, Commander," her cheeks flushed again. _Is everything you say an innuendo, Traynor? Remember, fraternization regulations… "F_or as long as you need me, that is," she added hastily.

"About that," Shepard interrupted, looking uncomfortable.

Samantha felt her cheeks pale. _Oh god—she's going to kick me off because of last night. She was probably awake when I kissed her. . ._She clenched her jaw, trying to stifle any emotion from showing on her face.

"I went over your station request and I have to say that—"

"Shepard," EDI's lustrous voice sounded over the speakers in Shepard cabin. Samantha noticed Shepard give a low growl and rolled her eyes slightly at being interrupted by the VI. "Some of our systems require further testing. And Specialist Traynor has been extremely effective during installation. I would prefer that she remain."

Samantha caught herself blinking. _VI's don't make requests…_

She glanced at Shepard's face. Shepard was distinctly looking away from Samantha, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. Samantha's heart sank;_ she wants me off of the ship._

As Samantha's shoulder started to sink, Shepard let out a loud exhale and folded her arms over her stomach, "Got it EDI."

Samantha blinked rapidly, not quite understanding what had just happened. "Wait, when does a virtual intelligence make requests?"

Shepard finally looked back at Samantha, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. "EDI's an AI. Fully self-aware."

"Oh, I knew it," Samantha declared, making a playful frown at the ceiling. "I knew Joker was lying. You've been far too helpful and intuitive to be a proper VI."

"Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself," EDI sounded again. "I apologize for the deception."

"Thanks EDI, and I—" Samantha felt her cheeks start to burn red again. She chanced a glance at Commander Shepard, who was giving her a quizzical look. "I apologize for all those times I talked about how…hmm... attractive your voice was. ANYWAY—" she said hastily, pulling her datapad out of her cargo pocket. "Shall I give you a tour, Commander Shepard? I think you'll be impressed with the new upgrades." Samantha looked up from the datapad, ready to give the Commander a well rehearsed presentation of the new ship layout and equipment, but she stopped cold when she noticed the look in Shepard's eyes.

"I know the layout of the ship, Specialist. But—we need to talk," Shepard said, with a very stern composure.

Samantha swallowed hard. "About last night, you mean?"

* * *

Shepard looked back at Samantha, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. _She thinks that EDI is a VI? _"EDI's an AI. Fully self-aware." _Either Specialist Traynor isn't as good as EDI says, or EDI is a better actress than I gave her credit for. _

"Oh, I knew it," Samantha declared, frowning at the ceiling and shaking her head. "I knew Joker was lying. You've been far too helpful and intuitive to be a proper VI."

"Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself. I apologize for the deception."

"Thanks EDI, and I—" Samantha cheeks started to flush again. Shepard raised her eyebrow at Samantha. "Apologize for all those times I talked about how…hmm... attractive your voice was. ANYWAY—" Samantha said, carefully choosing her words while trying to still say them quickly. Shepard smirked, squinting at the Specialist, taking a humorous note on how attracted she was to a robotic voice. Specialist Traynor cleared her throat and pulled out a datapad out of her cargo pocket. "Shall I give you a tour, Commander Shepard? I think you'll be impressed with the new upgrades."

Shepard face went back to her stern reproach. _If she's staying on the ship, then we have to talk about last night…shit. _She let out a long exhale and said, "I know the layout of the ship, Specialist. But—we need to talk."

Shepard notice the flustered look in Samantha's face change to that of worry, creasing her laugh lines in a way that made her look less innocent. "About last night, you mean?" she responded sheepishly. Samantha still held the datapad in her hands, but she was starting to fidget with it, looking uncomfortable.

Shepard found herself nodding. "First, I should say thank you," she started. It got the worried look on Samantha's face to lessen. _Good… I don't think that I can handle her looking upset. _"It took a lot of guts to get between me and that wall."

Samantha nodded, making a pointed effort to not look Shepard in the eyes. "It was rather frightening to walk in on. But someone had to stop you before you destroyed the ship, I suppose." She smiled at her fleeting attempt at humor. She motioned to the door with her thumb, "I mean, did you see the dent you put out there?"

Samantha's face flattened when she saw the look on Shepard's face. Shepard clenched her jaw, staring unfocused at the door. She still couldn't believe that she'd let a subordinate see her loose it so badly.

"Speaking of which, how is your hand?" Samantha asked uncertainly.

Shepard blinked hard, forcing herself to refocus her vision. "Wha—oh it's fine," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Samantha bit her lower lip, clutching the datapad a little tighter in her hands. "I know that I might be out of line, Commander, but I think that you should have the Doctor on duty give it a look."

Shepard shook her head. "It's fine. You did a fine job of patching it up, and the medigel took care of the rest."

Samantha nodded, still looking fairly nervous.

Shepard closed her eyes, let out another breath and then turned to face Samantha, looking her square in the eyes. "That aside, Specialist Traynor, EDI showed me the rest of what happened."

Samantha's eyes widen. "She did?"

Shepard nodded. "I need to say that what you saw last night is something that I cannot have the rest of the crew knowing about, you understand?" Shepard ended firmly.

"Oh, of course Commander. I would never blather that to the rest of the crew," Samantha responded quickly, taking a step forward and putting a nervous hand to her heart. "I meant what I wrote. You're a cape-less superwoman _**and** _that you're secret is safe with me," Samantha said, laughter returning to her eyes. Shepard saw her checks tinge red again before Samantha shrugged, dropping her hand from her chest and continued. "I mean, in all honesty Commander, I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through—what you've been through."

Shepard found herself nodding, letting her posture relax a little, trying not to picture Earth. She let Samantha's off kilter humor warrant a smile, though. She needed to bring up the fact that Samantha had kissed her, but she almost didn't want to. Part of her wanted to keep that to herself, letting Samantha think that EDI hadn't shown her the last part of the evening.

Shepard apparently stood there too long, her face falling while she was thinking about the Specialist in front of her. Shepard looked away from Samantha, chewing on her lip subconsciously.

Samantha took a few cautious steps toward Shepard, timidly putting a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Commander, you're out there trying to save, not only one world, not even just a single solar system—you're out there trying to save the entire galaxy." Samantha moved her head, still stepping one step closer to her Commanding Officer, leaving a gap of maybe five inches between them. She moved her head attempting to catch Shepard's eye.

Shepard finally met her gaze and instantly had a feeling of calm wash over her. Normally she would have made a mention of getting too friendly with a subordinate, the way the Samantha gingerly cupped her shoulder and how intimately close she was to her; but she couldn't help welcoming the feeling of her touch. There was something about Specialist Traynor that made Shepard feel completely at ease. No other person, besides Ash, had that effect on her.

"We're only human," Samantha continued. Her hand moved from cupping Shepard's shoulder to closer to the base of her neck. Her grip was gentle, but she pulled Shepard towards her, just so. She gave a smile, showing her brilliantly white teeth and brought her other hand to her mouth, holding the datapad up, shielding her mouth from the side and whispered playfully. "I'll let in you in on my own little secret. . . I can't shoot worth a damn. Hints why I was put into R&D," she winked, her smile moving into her eyes. She dropped her hand and spoke at a normal volume. "But you, Commander…You can't lug around all of that emotional baggage every day. So, if you crying on my shoulder or needing someone to talk to every once in a while—or every day for that matter, I'm not picky—if it will help…" she paused, choosing her words as she held Shepard's gaze. "If it will help, then I'll gladly report for duty whenever you need me."

Shepard stood there for a moment, looking into Samantha's beautiful auburn eyes. She was vaguely reminded of Kelly Chambers, from when she was working with Cerberus. Kelly had adamantly tried to get close to Shepard, but the woman always made her uncomfortable. But staring into Samantha's eyes, Shepard fought the feeling of hotness in her own eyes—feeling as if she were to about start crying again; but this time it was a happy emotion. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in such a long time… not since before she met Ashley on Eden Prime.

She could faintly smell honey and some kind of tea—the smell that her hair had absorbed from the night before. Shepard took in a deep breath, taking it in when she noticed that the two of them were slowly moving closer together. She let out a quick cough and stood straight; negating all the space they'd moved in the last few moments and looked away from Samantha.

Samantha bit her lip and anxiously looked from side to side rapidly. She gave a curt nod and went to move back a bit; but before she let go of Shepard's shoulder, Shepard moved her hand up to Samantha's lingering hand and took hold of the top of it, squeezing ever-so-slightly. Without looking back into Samantha's eyes, for fear of doing something inappropriate, Shepard said "Thank you, Specialist Traynor."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see a smile wipe away the anxious complexion on Samantha's face. She even felt the tension leave her arm through her hand. Samantha squeezed slightly back on Shepard's fingers. "Call me Samantha, Commander."

Shepard smiled, letting go of Samantha's hand as she moved it from her shoulder. Shepard didn't understand why she had had the urge to touch Samantha, but it had happened before she could stop herself. "Thank you, Samantha." She looked back up to meet her eyes, and they smiled at each other for a moment longer. Shepard knew that she didn't want Samantha to leave. She didn't want to walk down to the CIC and face the war ahead of her. She wanted to stay at peace for a few moments longer, taking in the calming effect the Specialist Traynor had on her.

She glanced down at the datapad in Samantha's other hand, and smiled to herself. _I can spend a few more minutes up here…_ "Tell me about the retrofits."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, I promise that we're moving out of this scene. From here on out, I hope that the story will progress much more quickly. I don't plan on writing any scenes while Shepard is on the ground doing missions (so far that I've plotted out, anyway). I'll be writing mostly during the time spent flying to and from missions and some time spent on the Citadel. As always, thanks for reading and don't forget to review. Always makes me squeal in delight when I see a notification that someone's submitted a review. So go ahead… do it. You'll make my day.


	4. Promise Me

**A/N:** While doing research for Shepard's back-story, I found out that stock Shepard and I share the same birthday. Needless to say, I did a little happy dance hand gyration and proceeded to run from room to room telling all of my housemates. Yup—I'm that kid.

Just a quick FYI—I've changed up the time line for the story, but most noticeably, in this chapter and the following chapter. Typically EDI would have taken over the mech's body in the scene that I am writing into but I'm saving it for later—mainly so you aren't reading a ridiculously long chapter (it's long enough as it is). So, per-usual, I hope you enjoy this installment and cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

updated 8/19/2013

* * *

**Promise Me  
**_fanfic by MistressNoriko_

Shepard couldn't help but smile: It was damn good to see Garrus again. When she initially had heard about Palaven, she immediately worried that she would never again get to see his mangled mandibles. But as glad as she was to see him, she couldn't help but feel guilty. While they were on Menae, Shepard had seen Reapers in the sky line, tearing into Garrus' fellow Turian soldiers as they attempted to defend their perceived tactical advantage point. She could see reapers annihilate entire sections of the space fleet as they were running to secure the communications tower that had gone down. There were still light spots burned into her eyes from looking too long at Palaven's burning terrain.

Although the reaper invasion held no similarities to the Batarian slavers attack on Mindoir, Shepard couldn't help but remember that day as she watched the burning terrain of Palaven through the comm. feed on the Kodiak's console. She had been sixteen, getting ready to go and do some menial farming work with her father. She couldn't remember what they were supposed to go and do specifically, but she did remember how upset she was at him for having to go and do it. She had made plans with her first girlfriend that afternoon but had to cancel because of her father. As she was putting her shoes on to leave the house she started to hear the screaming. She had ran outside to see what the screaming was about, running into the street with only one shoe on. Down the road, smoke billowed from the crops, almost concealing the strange ships, ships that Jane hadn't recognize, shooting beams into the fields below. The crops were aflame, burning a hot orange.

Shepard suddenly closed her eyes and started to count to ten; a trick she'd learned from Commander Beck after her first few missions as an N7 Alliance soldier when the memories of Elysium and the Blitz flooded her mind. She had more important things to worry about than to worry about past happenings that would never change. _On top of the reapers,_ Shepard thought, opening her eyes and looking toward the new Turian Primarch, General Victus. _I now have to figure out an alliance with the Turian and the Krogan. Do these people not realize that we're at war for our lives? Our very existence could be wiped out!_

She closed her eyes again. _Don't start that now… stay positive,_ she prompted to herself. She opened her eyes again and glanced towards Garrus and Primarch Victus. She had taken two of the Turian's best men with her to fight politics. By all rights, they should have stayed with their men. Given them hope. But Shepard had demanded Primarch Victus leave with her on the Normandy—she'd threatened to knock him unconscious and carry him off of the moon if she had to. Garrus came of his own volition; but she could tell by the look on his face as he took one last glance to Palaven before boarding the Kodiak that he had serious doubts about leaving, too.

"I still can't believe that this is all really happening," Garrus said gruffly, finally leaning back from his stiff posture into the Kodiak's seat.

Shepard looked at him and saw a tired soldier. "You've been with me since the beginning of all this, back when Saren was trying to open the mass relays for Sovereign. What do you mean 'you can't believe that is it happening.'?"

Garrus smirked. "It's one thing to go gallivanting through the galaxy, stopping unspeakable horrors with you, Shepard. But—it always seemed so far off. Like we always had more time. But now… Now we're all out of time, I guess."

Shepard felt her jaw clench. "Yeah," was all she said, slumping her shoulders as she relaxed back into her seat.

"I still think this is all bullshit," James sounded, leaning in the doorway between the Kodiak's seating area and Steve's cockpit. "We're soldiers, not goddamned taxi men."

Steve chuckled. "Tell me about it," he said, trying to lighten the somber mood in the Kodiak.

James scowled. "You know what I mean, Esteban. Here we are, some of the most badass sons of bitches in the entire galaxy, and what are we doing?"

"At ease, Vega," Shepard cautioned. Her tone wasn't harsh, but it was definitely a warning that James was walking on thin ice.

"No, Lola. We should be out there fighting these fucking things!" James refuted, pointing towards to Kodiak's doors. "But instead—we're running to the rescue of the Turian political hierarchy and gathering allies that probably won't come through for us when it counts anyway!" James jolted himself slightly, after making eye contact with Garrus' threateningly quizzical stare. "Don't get me wrong, you two are great," James recovered. "But don't you wish that you were back on Menae, fighting?"

Garrus let out a sigh and clicked his mandibles. But it was Primarch Victus who spoke. "Of course we would. We're Turian. War runs through our blood. War is the substance that our bones grow from. But," he paused, glancing at the comm. feed of the space battle raging outside. "If what we can accomplish together saves a few million lives, then it is worth it in the long run."

James shook his head. "How is this going to sa—"

"At. Ease. Vega." Shepard demanded, standing from her spot, her voice severe and venomously articulated.

James took a cautious step back and put both hands up to his chest, surrendering. "Okay, okay," he said, shaking his head. "But you know I'm right."

Shepard glared at him, jaw clenched and eyebrows at a dangerous incline. With his hands still up, James shrugged and raised his eyebrows, showing that he was backing down.

The Kodiak hit a bit of turbulence and Shepard grabbed a handle bar on the low ceiling. She looked at the Kodiak's door and let her eyes stare off, out of focus, into her own thoughts. She knew that what James said rang true to all three Soldiers she was with, including herself. All four of them were torn from their home world to go and attempt to get galactic help. None of them were meant to be politicians. Shepard knew that better than any of them. She'd attempted to get the council to ready the galaxy for the Reaper invasion, but was always scoffed at, and told that she had no evidence. _We're in the twenty second century and we still can't play our memories for other to see_, she thought bitterly. If the council or the Alliance could see the things she'd seen in the last three years, they would have jumped at her words and began preparations when she saw her first signs of the reapers on Virmire.

_Or maybe I'm just not convincing enough. Maybe there was something more that I could have done to persuade the council… to make them see the incoming reaper threat. Maybe there was something I missed._ Shepard's thoughts continued, darkly. _Maybe there was something in that Collector Base that would have held answers. Maybe blowing it up was the wrong course of action… I could have turned it over to the alliance instead of the Illusive Man. I could have—_

"So Shepard, any word from Earth?" Garrus' voice intruded on Shepard's thoughts.

She closed her eyes, trying to rid her thoughts of self-doubt from her mind. "I've heard from Hackett…Earth's taking a brutal beating, but they're holding out," was all she let herself say. She didn't want to say more for fear of revealing how uneasy she felt.

Garrus' noticed the finality in Shepard's words and remained quiet. James shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms and shifted his weight to his back leg, pointedly leaning away from Shepard.

"Joker, ETA five minutes out. Prepare the shuttle bay for docking," Steve sounded from the cockpit awkwardly.

* * *

Samantha closed her eyes a let out a long breath. She'd been working tirelessly on intercepting communication on Menae to help General Corinthus pinpoint the location of the newly designated Primarch. She still couldn't grasp that they had slipped in undetected behind the moon and avoided fighting the reapers. Her stomach dropped whenever she noticed massive amounts of comm. channels go offline all at once.

_ . .Juggernauts_, Samantha thought contemptuously. _It's a good thing that _**real**_ squids don't have death beams coming from their foreheads. That would have made deep sea exploration a bit of a problem_, she mused, trying to lighten the mood in her head. She continued to think of the similarities of Reapers and Squids, stemming from the fact that squids were deep sea dwellers and reapers came from Dark Space. _I wonder if dark space is anything like the bottom of the Atlantic?_

She knew that she was being ridiculous, comparing Reapers to highly endangered sea creatures. But standing in the CIC while Commander Shepard and her crew were on the ground was positively nerve wracking. She didn't know if it was because they had flown into Reaper infested space or if she was afraid that Shepard wouldn't return.

She shook her head._ It's the reapers that make you nervous, Traynor. Of course Shepard's coming back, you idiot. She's Commander Shepard. _

She had been slightly confused, when Steve had returned to the Normandy to drop off Dr. T'Soni. She'd patched in a new comm. channel, shortly before their return, to a Turian that Shepard referred to as Garrus. Originally she was excited to hear that Steve was headed back, thinking that Shepard had found the Primarch on a whim. But that thought only lasted a few seconds before Shepard's comm. flared up with combat noise. The Turian had yelled something that sounded like "Harvester" and then all she heard was gun fire for a few tense moments. Only then did she realize that they weren't on their way back with Steve.

She shook her head and then focused back on her work. She had intercepted a distress beacon from Grissom academy about a half an hour ago but hadn't been able to get to until now. Now that she had confirmation that Commander Shepard and crew were five minutes out, she opened the file. She narrowed her eyes and creased her brow as she started reading. _Why am I getting this? It seems pretty standard, _she thought as she scrolled through the signal. There had been a response from a Turian vessel to the academy's distress signal. _Hold on,_ she thought, catching the timing of the response to the distress signal. The distress signal had been fired at 11:07:39 AST. The Turian response had been signaled at 11:07:45 AST. _Really? They responded within six seconds?_

The lights suddenly fluctuated, dimming the lights and powering down the galaxy map for a matter of seconds. Samantha stood straighter and glanced around the CIC. "What on earth…" she whispered. Everyone else had looked up from their work stations, trying to figure out what was going on.

A notification came up on her holo screen that brought her attention back to her console. The notification was from the Citadel. Samantha raised an eyebrow at it for a moment before she realized that it was a communication channel from the Asari Councilor's office.

"EDI?" Samantha summoned, opening up the new channel and started typing up a response.

"Yes, Specialist Traynor?" EDI responded, taking longer to do so than normal.

"I've flagged a distress signal and a response on my console from Grissom Academy. Could you look at them? Something doesn't seem right."

It took EDI a few moments to respond again. Samantha was about to ask again when EDI finally said, "Of course, Specialist Traynor. I am currently tasked to capacity… dealing with the prothean data in the Cerberus mech." EDI added. "I will inform you when I have completed my analysis."

"Thanks," Samantha said, not really thinking about it. If the Turian fleet had indeed come to the rescue, then it wasn't an issue. But she still wanted to check it through.

Samantha found herself thinking of Shepard while she started closing down a few of the windows she had running. She hadn't spoken to Commander Shepard since introducing herself the day before. She still felt a little uneasy around the crew, like she was keeping this huge secret from everyone around her. But on the other hand, she couldn't help but smile every time she glanced at her right hand, the one that Shepard had squeezed before thanking her. She looked down and cupped her right hand with her left and smirked, slightly shaking her head at herself. _I still can't believe that you let yourself lean into her like that,_ she thought, recollecting how close the two of them had been before Shepard had cleared her throat. Samantha let out a short, forced laugh that was too quiet for anyone to hear. _Jesus, Traynor. You were millimeters away from kissing __**The **__Commander Shepard._ She shook her head again, but this time slightly frowning. _She isn't some mythological war hero, she's a person. Stop thinking like she's out of your league… even though she is. For multiple reasons. Mainly alliance regulatory ones…_

Samantha heard the elevator doors behind her open. She instinctively looked over her shoulder and noticed that it was Shepard and two Turians that stepped out. Samantha immediately turned around and went into a full salute, her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight of Shepard. "Commander Shepard," she said, almost squeaked. _Oh god, pull it together, you flaming blighter. _Shepard glanced over to her, raising an eyebrow.

Samantha noticed that Shepard had received a few new scraps while on Menae. A long cut ran along her left cheek and a few scraps were just above her right eyebrow. Samantha held her salute but swallowed hard. _Alright, you git, you _**were**_ worried that Shepard wouldn't come back_, she thought to herself. Her heart continued fluttering in her chest while a small weight seemed to magically disappear from her shoulders. Samantha tried to not let her eyes wonder Shepard's body again. She was noticeably sweaty, wearing an N7 tank top and tight fitting cargo pants. _Is that all she wears underneath her armor?_ Samantha pondered.

"At ease, Specialist," Shepard said, waving a hand at Samantha as she began to walk towards her. "Is there anything I should know?"

Samantha stared a second too long as Shepard walked toward her. She noticed the she was walking with the slightest of limps. Only when Shepard cleared her throat did she respond. "Um, right. Yes, Commander," she stuttered. She noticed the Turian with a scared mandible cross his arms and put his weight on his back leg, smirking. _Or is he frowning?_ Samantha shook her head, trying to focus. "I've just received word from the Asari Councilor. She's waiting on the vid com… she mentioned something about Krogan and the War Summit?"

Shepard looked away from Samantha and clenched her jaw, letting out a loud exhale through her nose. Samantha noticed that the skin over Shepard's temples was taught. Samantha fought the urge ask if everything was alright, but refrained.

Shepard finally nodded, and then forced a smile to Samantha. "Thank you, Specialist." She turned her head toward the other Turian. "Follow me, if you would, Primarch Victus."

Samantha's face fell ever-so-slightly at being called Specialist, twice. _I told her to call me Samantha…_ she thought dejectedly. _Maybe she's just being formal in front of other military personnel, _she continued to think, trying to be optimistic.

The Turian nodded and followed Shepard out of the CIC toward the War Room. Samantha watched them walk away, still feeling slightly dejected.

"It's always good to watch her leave, isn't it?" the Turian sounded from behind Samantha.

Samantha snapped her attention back to the scarred Turian. He'd situated himself next to the galaxy map, leaning on the railing to the steps leading up to the platform. This time, Samantha, without a doubt, knew that he was smirking at her.

Samantha forced a cough. "I'm not sure what you mean."

The Turian let out a hearty laugh, rough to Samantha's ears. "Oh c'mon. Shepard's got the best human ass I've seen. Don't be shy. You get to watch her walk in and out of the CIC every day. You can't tell me that you _**haven't**_ stared before."

_No,_she thought. _I've never matched her walk away-but I've seen her up close and personal._

Samantha mocked shock on her face. "I never," she started sarcastically, trying to make conversation with the Turian in front of her. He seemed in a good enough humor. She brought a playfully offended hand up to her chest. "She's my Commanding Officer. That would be against regulations."

The Turian let out another laugh, a little louder and a little longer. When he stopped, he chuckled one more time. "Shepard's never been one for regulations," he said suggestively. Samantha tilted her head to the right, trying to understand the reference. "Where are my manners," he said, extending his hand. _Are they hands? Or are they claws? _Samantha thought as she moved to take it. "Garrus Vakarian. I've served with Shepard on two previous suicide missions."

Samantha's eyes went wide. "Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor," she answered uncomfortably. _Suicide missions?!_ she thought dramatically.

"That's right. I was on the ground with her and Ashley when she took on Saren at the Citadel. And I was in command of the second squad when we flew through Omega 4 relay and destroyed the collector base," he replied, as if knowing what was running through Samantha's head. "Ever flown a Mako through a mass relay?" Samantha tentatively shook her head. "Ha—of course you haven't. That's just one of the perks when you work with Shepard: you get to live through all the crazy shit that you only read about in those human adventure comics."

"The other perk being able to watch her ass as she walks away," Samantha responded, without hesitation. Only after she said it did she feel her cheeks grow hot, doubtlessly showing a rosy hue to the ever humored Turian in front of her.

"Careful," he mocked. "She _**is**_your Commanding Officer." The look in his eyes was playful and Samantha finally smiled, showing teeth. Garrus chuckled and clapped Samantha on her shoulder. "Oh, I like you. I think you'll be just what the Commander needs."

Samantha skeptically moved her head to the right, still looking at Garrus as he moved his hand away. "What do you mean? I'm sure she's got plenty of crew members staring at her as she walks by."

Garrus slowly nodded his head, standing erect from his leaning position. "Ri-ight, Traynor." He kept smirking, almost as if he knew something that Samantha didn't. "Anyway—if anyone needs me, I'll be calibrating the forward guns."

"Be sure to set them to "disintegrate reapers mode," Samantha joked as he walked away.

She heard him chuckle again as he waved a hand over his shoulder as he made his way to the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed behind him, Samantha couldn't help but think about what he said. _You're just what the Commander needs? _She thought, turning back to her console. _He's probably just teasing—I am a blithering idiot whenever she's around._ She shook her head, trying to turn her thoughts back to work. _But what was he suggesting…Has Shepard had relations with crew members before? _She narrowed her eyes at something she pulled up on her console, not really looking at it. _Was Shepard involved with him?_ she thought, disheartened.

* * *

Shepard ran a sling of curse words directed at the Asari Councilor as she stood being scanned in the room between the conference room and the CIC. In that moment she knew why she wasn't ever going to be a good politician. Yes—she played it by the books, went out of her way to make sure every soldier always made it out alive, and believed in courtly justice rather than in the moment vengeance. But right now—all she wanted to do was to throw the heaviest biotic shockwave she could at the Asari Councilor.

_How can these people still be resentful for grudges that were based on instances that are hundreds of years old?_ Shepard thought, the body-scan finally finishing. She started walking forward, zipping up her recently adorned N7 hoodie. _Do they not realize that if we don't work together, we'll all die as the reapers pick us apart? We have to work together!_ As Shepard walked forward to the doors, she could feel her pulse in her temples. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this angry at another living being.

The doors to the CIC slid open and Shepard's eyes landed on Samantha. She stood still for a moment, just looking at the back of the Specialist's body. She felt her body begin to relax—she noticed that her hands had been balled into fists. She flexed her hands and continued walking. She went straight to the elevator. She didn't have anything to say to her and still felt a little uneasy around her. _She probably thinks I'm an emotional ticking time bomb. And I still can't believe I didn't confront her about kissing me… and then leaning in to kiss me before I asked her about the retrofits. There's something about her—no one, besides Ash, has been able to instantly calm me down like she does when I simply see her. But that was still no excuse to grab her hand…_

She fought the urge to glance one more time at Samantha's backside as the elevator doors opened. She accidentally hit the "3" button instead of the "1" when she stepped into the elevator. She shrugged and thought going to the port side observatory room would be a good place to collect her thoughts.

A few crew members stopped and saluted as she passed. She gave them a friendly nod and kept going. The door to the observatory room slid open as Shepard slipped back into her thoughts. _I don't think I even know the names of eighty percent of my crew. Samantha is the only new shipside crew member I've interacted with._

She glanced around the room, hoping she'd find a new crew member residing on the deck to strike up 'get to know you' conversation with. Her shoulders fell when the room showed to be empty. _What's happened to you, Jane?_ _You used to make a point of getting to know every crew member on your ship. No matter if they were shipside or on the ground with you._

_Reapers happened_, the other voice in her head responded. _Reapers showed up and started altering everything around you. Even you._

_Bullshit,_ she rebutted to herself, taking a few steps into the observatory room and coming to a stop a few feet in front of that large window. This wasn't the first time she'd had a conversation with herself. It was relatively normal after the Blitz.

_Oh please. Before the reapers you would have never left Anderson on Earth. You'd have stayed to fight and sent someone else to play politician. Before the reapers, you would have gone to Menae to _**help**_ their war effort, not abduct their strongest tacticians._

Shepard glared darkly at her reflection in the window. _Well the reapers change things, don't they?_

_Do they? You didn't let the Batarian's change you when their slavers raided Mindoir, killing your entire family. You didn't let the Batarian's change you when they attacked Elysium. You didn't let Saren and the Geth's actions against the galaxy change you._ The voice in her head grew more and more venomous.

_The reapers are different. They're like nothing any living being has ever seen,_ Shepard thought, shaking her head at her own glowering reflection.

_But does that mean you change your core personality to fight an impossible war?_

_It isn't impossible! We can still win this! We just have to… to…_ Shepard sat, still facing the window. She put her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together, leaning forward. _My personality hasn't changed._

_Sure it has. You would never have taken your frustration out on a metal wall until you bled before the reapers. You would never have let Anderson stay behind without you. You would have never let Ashley end up the way she is. _

_Damnit! It isn't like that!_

_Isn't it? Since when do the ends justify the means, Jane?_

Shepard blinked to herself. Letting herself continue arguing with her subconscious, _What?_

_Taking Primarch Victus from Menae? What about his men? You know damn well that his squad is dead now. But you _**needed**_ Victus for Earth. So what if a few Turians die._

Shepard leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. _It isn't like that._

_Horseshit, Jane. You know it. Pre-reaper you wouldn't have done it. Pre-reaper you would have evacuated his whole squad! Pre-reaper you would have done the same for a squad of Batarians! But no—you left them to die. To be devoured by reaper cannibals or collected by harvesters._

Shepard made an audible groan, vocalizing her frustration with the argument in her head. She leaned her body back, resting her head on the top of the couch she sat on, leaving her hands over her face. _What do you want from me?! What do you fucking want me to do?!_

Her mind was quiet. Shepard dragged her hands down her face, groaning again and then letting out a heavy sigh. "What do you want me to do," she whispered quietly, feeling the pit in her stomach grow dark again as she balled her fists in her lap.

"Commander…is everything alright?"

Shepard snapped up, whirling her head around towards the door. _I didn't even hear it open._ She felt herself stop breathing when she noticed Samantha cautiously standing in the entry. _How is it she always shows up when I am at my worst? _Shepard thought, feeling herself tense in the shoulders. Samantha was standing there, an apprehensive expression on her face, datapad clutched to her chest. Even in her simple Alliance uniform, she still looked stunning to Shepard. _I'm still in my sweaty clothes from running on Menae_, she noticed, temporarily looking away from Samantha. _I should have changed…_

"Should I come back another time?" Samantha said, moving her body slowly to motion her leaving.

Noticing that she hadn't responded to Samantha's first inquiry, Shepard smiled and shook her head. "No, no," she blurted. "God knows I could use a distraction." She looked at Samantha again, this time making eye contact with her. She still looked uneasy.

"Well, _usually _I provide fairly good distractions," she said jokingly, warranting Shepard's smile to deepen. "But I'm afraid that I've come with mission related news," she said, shifting uncomfortably.

Shepard slowly closed her eyes, and then let out a slow breath. She didn't know what she'd been hoping Samantha would say. Then she had a thought. "Okay—I'll listen to war related news for…five minutes," she said, looking down at her Omni-tool to check the time. "After that, you'll distract me by suffering through my "getting to know you" conversation."

Samantha looked amusedly taken aback. "Getting to know you conversation?" she responded skeptically.

Shepard nodded. "I used to have it with all of my crew, back on the original Normandy. I figure since we've got some flying time ahead of us, why not start it back up," she finished, turning her posture away from the door to face the window again. She glanced down at her Omni-tool. "You now have four and a half minutes," Shepard teased.

* * *

"Specialist Traynor, I've completed the analysis you asked for," EDI's voice sounded through a speaker unit next to Samantha's console.

"Perfect," Samantha responded, closing out of the intel she'd just finished analyzing. "So, what did you find?"

"It's unusual. There is a coded signal within the Turian response vessel that emulates something that I have seen before."

"Seen," Samantha responded, raising a playful eyebrow. "Can AI's _see?_"

"It is a figure of speech. Although I do monitor the surveillance throughout the entire ship. So in theory, yes—I see everything," EDI responded back. Samantha chucked before EDI continued. "Back to our original topic of conversation; I have run across this same code before, when working with Shepard on the Cerberus mission to a damaged collector ship. The Turian signal is fake."

"Wait—a damaged collector ship?" Samantha paled.

"Yes, Specialist Traynor. The Illusive Man faked a Turian signal to get Shepard to agree to investigate the derelict reaper base."

Samantha felt her eyes grow wide. "Why did the Illusive Man fake the signal?"

"His motives were unclear. Commander Shepard was exceptionally displeased when she found out what the Illusive Man had done once I brought it to her attention that the signal was a fake."

_I can't imagine why…_Samantha thought. "So—then Grissom Academy isn't be evacuated by a Turian transport, are they?"

"The accuracy of my analysis is 99.98%, Specialist Traynor. I can run it again, if you would prefer."

"No," Samantha responded immediately. "I think that that is enough to take to Shepard."

"Yes. Commander Shepard would be most interested in this information. Would you like me to relay the information to her?"

Samantha almost said yes, but stopped herself. It was a chance to talk to Shepard again, hypothetically alone. _Maybe I can wriggle out of her what Garrus meant… _she thought, thinking back to Garrus' comment about Shepard's disregard for regulations. "No thanks, EDI. I'll tell her," Samantha finally responded. _You just want to get her alone you dog you,_ the other part of her brain joshed.

_Oh shut it. So what if I do?_ She thought back, thinking nothing of having playful banter with herself in her head. "Is Shepard in her quarters, EDI?"

"Negative. Commander Shepard is in the port observatory room."

"Thanks," Samantha said. She transferred a few bits of key information about the signal that EDI sent to her to her datapad. Datapad in hand, she made her way to the elevator. She didn't have to wait long for the elevator to open and walked in. _I wonder what Shepard is doing in the observatory room. _No one got off of the elevator and no one was queued to join her. She hit "3" and the doors closed. _She's probably catching up with Garrus…which means that I won't get her alone. _

_Why do you want her alone, hmm Traynor? _her subconscious teased.

_Oh shut it. _She couldn't believe how taken aback she'd been by what Garrus had said earlier. _I really don't know anything about her…she could be a cock loving heterosexual for all I know,_ she thought, her face turning into a frown that small children make at food they don't like. The elevator door opened and she stepped out, making a right toward the port observation room. _What does it even matter, Traynor. She's your Commanding Officer and you haven't even known her a week. You're in a bloody war. Even if she were interested in other women, she's too preoccupied with the reapers to probably even __**think**__ about intimacy. _

Samantha paused before entering the observation room. She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. _Alright—this stops here. No more thinking about Shepard like that. She's your Commanding Officer. You're an Alliance soldier. You're at war. _She took in a deep breath, the inhale raising her chest. As she exhaled, letting her chest fall, she nodded and took a step closer to the door, causing the motion sensor to initiate the doors to slide open.

She walked in and saw Shepard sitting, alone, on a couch facing the observatory window, her head leaning back on the couch with her hands over her face. Samantha was about to announce herself when Shepard let out a frustrated groan that sounded like she was drawing out the word "fuck" while she seemingly growled as she moved her hands from her face. Samantha thought she heard Shepard say something else, but couldn't quite catch it.

"Commander," Samantha started timidly. "Is everything alright?"

Shepard sat upright in a quick, fluid motion, turning her head around immediately to look at the door. Samantha saw that she hadn't changed since boarding the Normandy from Menae, still wearing her N7 tank top, but was now also wearing an N7 hoodie. _Why does the N7 faction get cool membership clothing? _she thought, forcing herself to think of something other than how attractive she found Shepard's vivid green eyes; she brought her datapad up to her chest. Shepard was looking at her, but not at her face. She seemed to be lost in thought as she faced Samantha.

Samantha glanced around to room, thinking maybe she'd interrupted a conversation but found that Shepard was alone. "Should I come back another time?" Samantha said, moving slightly towards the door.

Shepard shook her head, smiling. "No, no," she said suddenly. "God knows I could use a distraction." Shepard finally looked her in the eyes, still smiling.

_Keep it together, Traynor. _She thought to herself giving a weak smile to Shepard. _Remember, she's your CO and distraction doesn't mean anything sexual. _She felt her cheeks become warm. _And you swore that off, you hopeless git!_ "Well, _usually _I provide fairly good distractions," she said a little more suggestively that she had intended. She noticed that Shepard's smile deepened, spreading into her eyes. "But I'm afraid that I've come with mission related news," Samantha continued, shifting uncomfortably.

Shepard closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. She looked disappointed for a split second before her eyes opened again, a smile still showing in her eyes. "Okay—I'll listen to war related news for…five minutes," she said, looking down at her Omni-tool. "After that, you'll distract me by suffering through my "getting to know you" conversation."

Samantha smiled, but turned her head to the side and angled slightly away from Shepard. "Getting to know you conversation?" she repeated, trying to stifle any inappropriate commentary from her subconscious.

Shepard nodded. "I used to have it with all of my crew, back on the original Normandy. I figure since we've got some flying time ahead of us, why not start it back up," she finished, turning to face the window again. "You now have four and a half minutes," Shepard teased.

"Right," Samantha started, moving awkwardly towards the couch that Shepard was sitting on. Shepard sat there, both arms extended out on the back side of the couch. If Samantha sat down, Shepard would inadvertently have her arms over her shoulders. She stayed standing. "I found something while scanning Alliance channels. Grissom academy is requesting help."

Shepard's face contorted, looking puzzled. "I thought the war would close most schools."

Samantha shifted, extending her hand with the datapad to Shepard after pulling up a file. "Grissom Academy is more specialized than a normal school." Shepard leaned forward and took the datapad, looking at it for a moment as Samantha continued. "It's home to some of the smartest students humanity has to offer. Their Ascension Project helps gifted young biotics and is the best training facility in the galaxy for human biotics. If it had been open twenty years ago, I bet you'd have been there."

Shepard smirked as though she was about to make a joke, but refrained from doing so, her eyebrows instead relaxing as she put her hand with the datapad down into her lap. "I sent a young man named David Archer there a few months back. I guess I am just surprised they're still open," she said, looking back up at Samantha, waiting for her to continue.

"Some of their work has Alliance support. That might be why they stayed," Samantha suggested. _C'mon, Traynor, get to the point._

"I'll be damned if the reapers harm alliance students. What can we do?" Shepard asked, crossing her left leg over her right at the knee, looking slightly enraged by the idea that something was harming innocent students.

The sudden change in Shepard's demeanor made Samantha bring her hands together, starting to fidget with her fingers. "Well, a Turian evac transport responded to their distress call, so normally I'd say we don't _need_ to do anything. But something seemed off in the Turian response time. It just happened too quickly. So I had EDI perform an analysis," she paused, forcing herself to put her hands down at her sides to stop herself from fidgeting. "It's fake. EDI thinks it is Cerberus. She said the faked Turian signal was similar to one that lured you to a collector ship…?"

Shepard let out a forced, short laugh and shook her head slightly from side to side. "That's a long story." She then looked at the window, and said quietly, "First Mars, and now a school? What the hell is Cerberus after…"

Samantha crossed her arms over her stomach, still fighting the urge to occupy her hands. Typically when she was divulging intel, she was at her console and pulling up schematics and diagrams. Standing in front of her relaxed looking Commanding Officer was starting to make her nervous again. _You could sit down next to her, but then that would still be awkward. _She took in a deep breath and continued. "In any event, whoever faked the signal wants us to think Grissom Academy's being evacuated. But I believe they're still in danger."

Shepard smiled up at Samantha. She then patted the seat cushion next to her, inviting her to sit down. The couch was a fairly decent size; it could probably fit three or four adults. But Shepard had patted the cushion closest to Samantha, which also happened to be the cushion at the end of the couch. Shepard was on the cushion directly next to it. _If I sit down, there's a six to one odd that I'll make a fool of myself again,_ Samantha thought.

"Good catch," Shepard said. She patted the cushion again after Samantha didn't move and motioned her to sit with her eyes. "Maybe you belong here after all."

Not wanting to disobey a potential order from her CO, Samantha moved to sit down. She felt her heart stop briefly at the last words from Shepard. She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with her left hand. "If this really is Cerberus," started not to obviously dwell on what Shepard had just said. "Hopefully this operation is something worth investigating. It could be simple disinformation—"

Shepard put a reassuring hand on Samantha's right forearm, interrupting her. "Traynor… Good catch," she said, looking Samantha straight in the eyes, tilting her head to the side as she smiled.

Samantha moved her left hand from her ear to behind her neck, nervously rubbing the base of her skull. "Thank you, Commander." She knew that her face was starting to blush; she could feel it in her cheeks. She tried to hold Shepard's gaze but couldn't bring herself to stare into her stunning green eyes. They were so welcoming and inviting-eyes that you felt safe looking into. She didn't want a repeat of the other day. Shepard's hand lingered for a moment longer than Samantha knew to be professional, but she didn't mind. _So this swearing off your Commanding Officer is going to be harder than you thought,_ she thought as she noticed how close their legs were to also touching.

Shepard suddenly straightened her posture, moving her hand from Samantha's arm, and spoke to the ceiling. "EDI, patch me through to Joker.

"What's up, Commander?" Moreau responded informally. Samantha knew that everyone referred to him as Joker, but she'd made it her personal vendetta to call him Moreau for the time being, for lying to her about EDI being an AI. _And he isn't all that funny,_ she thought, bringing her hand down to her lap, cupping it with her other hand.

"We've got a change of plans," Shepard started, resituating herself on the couch. "We're headed to Grissom Academy."

"Really? Why are we headed to a school?" he asked. "You need a brush up on how to throw someone with your magic biotic powers of destruction or something?"

Shepard let out a laugh, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "That's right. And you'll be the first one I'll test it out on."

"Oh, Commander I feel honored," he responded, sounding quite touched. "But in all seriousness, we'll be at Grissom in roughly 13 hours."

"Commander Shepard," EDI started. "Dr. Chakwas also suggests that you get some sleep while we're traveling to our next destination."

Shepard scoffed. "Thank you. That's all."

The overhead intercom cut out, as though EDI knew the Shepard didn't want to continue the conversation.

Samantha sat there for a few moments, watching Shepard, lost in her own thoughts. _I wonder if there's bad blood between her and Dr. Chakwas,_ Samantha thought as the time passed and Shepard's expression grew darker. After a few more moments, she finally asked, "Do you need to be alone, Commander?"

Shepard blinked hard and snapped her attention directly toward Samantha."Wha—no," she started, bringing her right hand up to her neck and rubbed it for a moment. To her surprise, Samantha noticed that the hand was completely healed. Before she had a chance to comment on it, she noticed Shepard smile and leaned sideways towards her, making their shoulders touch briefly. "Someone should be here in case I decide to take my frustrations out on the observation window."

"Ri—ight, because that's way less scary than a interior metal wall," Samantha said with a smile and then immediately regretted saying it. "I mean—I didn't—"

Shepard laughed. Actually laughed. Samantha stopped her sputtering and just looked at the woman in front of her. Her shoulder shook as she chuckled. Small lines formed around her half open eyes. Her lips curled over white teeth that rivaled Samantha's. Finally she stopped, letting off one last lingering chuckle and moved the datapad from her lap to the seat cushion to her right. "Yeah—I'm sure EDI would be pretty upset if I caused the pressure in the ship to go haywire. Anyway—" she shifted her body to look at Samantha, bringing her left leg up onto the cushion and her left arm on to the back of the couch, dangerously close to Samantha's shoulders. Glancing at her omni-tool, she said, "And you have another minute left."

Samantha sat up straighter as Shepard's arm rested on the couch behind her, even though her posture was fairly erect as it was. She shook her head, flattening her hands in her lap. "That's all I came in with. Unless you want me to give you a fifty second lecture on GUI interfaces."

They shared another smile. "I'll pass, I think," Shepard responded. "So, ready for my getting to know you Q and A?"

"I guess," Samantha replied, shifting in her seat. "Unless it'll hurt… then I'll have to pass."

Shepard playfully pursed her lips, mocking a thoughtful face. "It only hurts on occasion." She winked.

Samantha fought the urge to bite her lip. "Alright, do your worst, Commander."

"Oh, I will," Shepard responded playfully.

Samantha couldn't help but notice how friendly Shepard was being. It was so drastically different than the previous interactions that she'd had with her on the CIC. _Maybe this is what Garrus was referring to. Are Commanding Officers supposed to socialize with their crew? And in such close proximity? _

Samantha watched Shepard as she thought of what to ask first. Shepard's eyebrows rose suddenly, and then asked "Where are you from originally?"

Samantha relaxed into the arm rest of the couch. "A colony in the Terminus systems, actually. Though I studied on Earth at Oxford," she added thinking that Shepard was referring more to her English accent than she was to really wanting the details of where she was from. That and Samantha wanted to avoid mentioning that she hailed from Horizon and that Shepard had saved her family from being abducted my Collectors. _Yea…that's a conversation to save for later. _"My parents were from London. They loved Earth, but they wanted the freedom a colony life could offer. If they'd stayed in London, I imagine they'd be dead right now, though," she finished, her previous smile dissipating on her lips as she looked out the observatory window.

"A lot of people back on earth are still alive and counting on us," Shepard reassured her.

"Quite true, Commander."

"Alright, so you're a colony kid. How'd you land in the military?" Shepard asked quickly, trying to change the subject from Earth.

Samantha continued to look out the window—it was a way to see Shepard without looking at her. The window was almost a mirror effect against the black background scattered with stars behind it. Shepard was leaning towards Samantha, obviously engaged in their conversation. _She seems genuinely interested in what I have to say…_ "Well… my family didn't have money for university. When the Alliance saw my aptitude scores, they offered me a full scholarship. I served my required years after graduation and decided to stay. I really like the challenges of the lab," she said, her mind slowly drifting back to the R&D lab. _God, I miss it._ She felt her face drop and saw that Shepard was looking at her quizzically. "Al-Although I'm sure I'll grow to love front-line service as well," she added hastily.

"Front line service is definitely different. It takes some getting used to," Shepard's reflection nodded. "So, you worked in alliance R&D?"

"Yes," Samantha answered quickly. "You'd think quantum entanglement would make communication easy, but imagine incorporating multiple incoming sources and then networking them with extrapolations of time-lagged data to construct a coherent situational GUI. It's an exciting challenge… um for me, anyway," she finished, looking down into her lap, slightly embarrassed.

"I don't think I understood half of what you just said," Shepard laughed.

Samantha turned and finally faced Shepard again and smiled. "That's why you hold the guns and I stay shipside."

Shepard returned the smile. "Sounds good to me."

"So, what about you, Commander?" Samantha asked, still a little embarrassed with how much of a squib she felt like in front of Shepard.

"What about me?" Shepard retorted.

"Well, where are you from?"

Shepard smiled, shifted again in her seat. "Nope—this is a getting to know _**you **_conversation," she said, pointing her forefinger towards Samantha. "We can talk about me later."

Samantha swallowed hard, feeling slightly awkward to simply talk about herself. _I guess I won't get to ask about what Garrus mentioned… Damn._ "Alright then… what else do you want to know?"

"How are your first few days on the Normandy going?"

Samantha shrugged, grateful that the question wasn't aimed towards where she grew up. "I'm still trying to get my bearings. When I was working on the Normandy's upgrades I left at the end of the day. I didn't even have a toothbrush or a change of clothing until I made some emergency purchases on the citadel."

Shepard's expression turned serious. "Next time you need something, just ask. You're not alone here."

"Oh, it's no trouble, Commander," Samantha said quickly. "I'm sure you have larger concerns."

"We can put in a requisition order."

Samantha bit her lips, and then leaned in towards Shepard. "My toothbrush is a cison pro mark 4. Is uses a tiny mass effect fields to break up plaque and massage the gums." She was close enough to smell a slightly salty aroma emanating from Shepard's pale skin. She cupped a hand around her mouth, trying to ignore the sensation to figure out the other scents mingled into the salty one and whispered, "It costs 6,000 credits."

Shepard made a silent 'oh' face. "Okay, yeah. You're on your own with that."

"In any event," Samantha started as she leaned upright and brought her voice back to a normal volume. "I really do appreciate you giving me the chance to stay. I thought for sure the other day you were going to kick me off of the ship."

"What? Why do you think that," Shepard asked, squinting her eyes ever so slightly at Samantha.

Samantha noticed Shepard's cheeks redden, but just so. If she hadn't have been so close to her she would have never noticed. "Well… you just seemed rather… erm… displeased when EDI requested I stay aboard the Normandy."

"Oh, never mind that. Everything in the past few days has had me on edge, I guess," Shepard responded nonchalantly.

"I can imagine," was all that Samantha could say.

Shepard's expression hardened and unfocused. _Shit… quick… say something funny!_ She thought desperately as Shepard's focus shifted to a plane that wasn't the present. But Samantha's mind was blank, unable to think of one simple joke. On a whim, Samantha tentatively put her right hand on Shepard left calf, as it was still resting atop the seat cushion. "Commander… are you sure that you're alright," Shepard blinked, her focus back on Samantha. Looking into her eyes, she continued, "I meant what I said about if you ever need someone to talk to, that I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Shepard briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's alright, Traynor. I don't want to worry you with my problems." When Shepard looked Samantha in the eye again, her demeanor had completely changed. It seemed similar to how she was when Samantha had first walked into the observatory room.

Samantha turned her body towards Shepard, putting her other hand next to the one already on Shepard's calf. "You wouldn't be worrying me, honest. Sometimes it is just helpful to have an ear to borrow," She said, a little too seriously for her taste. "Unless the reapers have a self destruct function when they hear someone talk about feelings—if that's the case, by all means save it for the reapers!"

* * *

"In any event, I really do appreciate you giving me the chance to stay. I thought for sure the other day you were going to kick me off of the ship."

"What? Why do you think that," Shepard asked, shocked at the change in conversation. _I mean, I did want to boot you off of the ship, but it was because I thought that I'd be too emotionally attached to you or that you would rat me out to the rest of the crew. Or that—_

Samantha responded, cutting off Shepard's racing thoughts. "Well… you just seemed rather… erm… displeased when EDI requested I stay aboard the Normandy."

"Oh, never mind that," Shepard responded. "Everything in the past few days has had me on edge, I guess," she said, trying to calm her thoughts down.

"I can imagine," Samantha said.

Before she could stop herself, her thoughts reverted back to before Samantha entering the Observatory Room. _You've changed. You let the reapers get the better of you already and you're not even a week into this war._

_Stop… I can still be me. I won't let the reapers change me._

_Oh really? Considering they already have started, how do you plan on avoiding it?_

_Just stop. I don't need you telling me what or who I am. _

_Ri—ight. Because ignoring the facts will make everything go away._

"Commander…" Samantha's voice sounded, breaking through Shepard's thoughts. Shepard refocused, seeing Samantha brown eyes full of worry as she felt her hand tentatively touch her left calf, as she still had it resting up on the seat cushion. "Are you sure that you're alright? I meant what I said about if you ever need someone to talk to, that I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Shepard briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's alright, Traynor. I don't want to worry you with my problems."

_Pft, you don't have problems, Jane. You have a war on your hands. You have the responsibility of the entire galaxies fate resting on your shoulders. You have a job. _

Samantha moved on the couch, turning her body towards Shepard. Shepard felt Samantha's free hand move to her leg alongside the other. "You wouldn't be worrying me, honest," Samantha said sincerely. "Sometimes it is just helpful to have an ear to borrow… Unless, of course, the reapers have a self destruct function when they hear someone talk about feelings—if that's the case, by all means save it for the reapers!"

Shepard smiled, showing teeth as she looked at Samantha. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

Samantha shrugged. "It's a thing they teach at Oxford. In all serious situations, tell an inappropriate joke. Get pity laughs. Avoid tense or awkward moments. It's effective about seventy five percent of the time." She smiled.

They smiled at each other for a moment longer before Shepard stifled a yawn. Samantha looked down at her omni-tool. "Oh, look at the time. I didn't realize that it was that late already."

Shepard glanced down at her own omni-tool. [21:26 AST] "Well shit. I guess I should try and get some sleep, like Dr. Chakwas instructed."

Samantha stood, nodding. "Always listen to the doctor on duty."

"Especially when they compare you to a prune," Shepard joked.

"Especially then," Samantha responded without missing a beat as they both referred to the note that Samantha had left on Shepard's nightstand a few nights prior. "I hear those doctors are the most prestigious and highly regarded doctors in all the known universe."

Shepard smiled to herself and Samantha leaned over to grab the datapad that Shepard had placed on the couch next to her. She straightened up and then went into a full salute. "Good night, Commander."

Shepard waved her hand at her. "There's no need to salute me when we're alone, Samantha."

"Oh, um. Right," She replied awkwardly, bringing her hand back down to her datapad. "Well, good night then… Shepard."

"Good night, Samantha," Shepard responded, smiling ever so slightly.

Samantha nodded and then turned to make her way toward the door. Shepard watched her walk away in the reflection of the window. She was still baffled how the innocent looking, honey skinned comm. Specialist could make her feel so at ease by being so informal and joking around her. Before she could really filter what she was thinking, Shepard stood and walked a few steps towards the door. "Samantha, wait." Samantha stopped two steps before the door and turned around. "One more thing before you go… will you promise me something?"

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. "It depends on what you're asking," she replied skeptically, while still playful.

Shepard walked up to her, stopping just shy of an arm's length away. She took in a few careful breaths, trying to solidify what she wanted to say before saying it. "Don't… don't let this war change who you are."

"What do you mean, Commander?"

Shepard fought against the voice in the back of her head, refusing to let it pipe in. "War changes people. Sometimes for the better, but most often times it changes them for the worse." _Like it's doing to you._ Shepard took in breath, letting it out slowly and then looked Samantha straight in the eyes. "You're perfect, just as you are. So don't let this war change you. Promise me that."

Samantha opened her mouth and let out a shaky breath. "Commander, as much as I would love to say nothing can change who I am, this war is pretty impactful. I'm not sure if that is something that I can pro—"

"Promise me," Shepard interrupted. She had the urge to grab Samantha's hands with her own, but refrained. "Please."

Samantha blinked a few times, her expression falling from confusion into a look that Shepard couldn't place. She held Shepard's gaze, taking in another slow breath. Finally she nodded. "I promise."

Shepard nodded, narrowing her eyebrows. "Good," was all that she could say.

Samantha smiled at her one last time, gave a friendly nod and then turned to leave the room. Shepard didn't want the evening's conversation to end. Truth be told, she wasn't planning on sleeping. But there was too much to do, to plan for. She couldn't waste the evening in idle conversation.

Before she let herself fall back into her thoughts, she counted to ten, slowly. Once she reached ten, she took in a deep breath and let it out and slowly as she could. Nodding to herself, she began to walk out of the observatory room and headed straight towards the elevator. After pushing the "1" button, she continued to count. The last thing she wanted was to be consumed by her thoughts again, especially when she was headed to her quarters to be alone.

As she walked into her cabin, she made a direct line towards her desk, pulling up a stool to her console. She had the planned to try and look at some of the data that Samantha had extrapolated about Grissom when she noticed that she had a new email sitting in her inbox. With a curious brow, she clicked on the message. For a brief moment, all the weight of the war lifted from her shoulders.

It was from Ashley.

She was alive.

* * *

**A/N:** So, thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Rude, crude remarks? Much love and appreciation for all of the reviews so far! I am eagerly waiting to hear what everyone thinks of the latest installment. Cheers!


	5. Sweet Cheeks

**A/N:** Hello! Me again. Just a heads up that in the fight scenes that are in this chapter, I shied away from the typical biotic powers that are assigned to the adepts. I have built my Shepard to be a biotic juggernaut, and I think that if you're solely a biotic user, you can do it all! So there you have it. I hope that lessens any confusion later on.

Also, I spent the weekend fixing some things in the previous chapters. Caught some spelling errors, took out a few things, and added a few things (most noticeable, I changed the scene a little between Garrus and Samantha in the CIC in chapter 4). Just goes to show that I am listening to your reviews! They keep me honest and true to the games parameters. I can't say how much I appreciate your thoughts and comments. They really keep me motivated.

As always, I hope you enjoy this installment and I look forward to your comments at the end!

* * *

**Sweet Cheeks  
**_fanfic by MistressNoriko_

The way that Jack looked at her students reminded Shepard of how their relationship had ended up. The beginning had been rough, as Shepard tried to be the overtly friendly Commanding Officer. Jack hadn't taken to it and thought Shepard was an "Alliance brown nosing pussy," her words exactly. Eventually they found a middle ground (after Shepard had convinced her to spare the life of Aresh and helped her blow up Cerberus base on Pragia) and they actually became oddly close. Shepard would go down to Jack's hidey hole on the engineering deck with a bottle of some cheap alcohol after missions and they'd talk; it was never serious stuff, and they never drank enough to really do any damage—just enough to loosen up. Usually they just talked biotic shop talk with playful insults left and right, every once in a while getting into the grey area of Jack's past.

Throughout her entire time working with Cerberus, it was Jack who had kept her honest. Jack was Shepard's constant reminder of how Cerberus thought of the galactic human agenda: They were the top proprietors of "the ends justify the means," a motto that Shepard vehemently abhorred. Even though Jack was harsh, rough around the edges, and often times a huge pain in the ass, Shepard had grown fond of her over the few months that they'd worked together. She'd even go as far to say that she loved Jack like the little sister she never had. She made the mistake of telling that to her once, shortly before she handed the Normandy back over to the Alliance; Jack responded with a biotic fist to her shoulder and a loud declaration of how much of a pussy she was, her favorite insult for Shepard. It had stung a little, the punch, but the look on Jack's face told her that she had felt the same but just didn't know how to express such feelings.

It had been tough to say goodbye to her when Shepard finally returned to the Alliance, accepting the punishment she had to take for her actions in Bahak System—apparently her warning to the batarian colonies hadn't cleared the reaper artifacts interference and she'd wiped out the system by running an asteroid into the mass relay. Completely decimating an entire system was something she was lucky she hadn't been court marshaled and put to death for. Jack had originally been mad at Shepard for turning the Normandy in, telling her to turn pirate and roam the galaxy with her. But being around Shepard for so long, Jack had started to grow a little softer around the edges and eventually accepted that Shepard had to do the right thing, given the circumstance.

Shepard was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that Jack was a teacher, teaching young human biotics. She was even more surprised by how much she noticed Jack cared about her kids. She was extremely possessive of them, swearing to slaughter any Cerberus trooper that even thought about laying a hand on them. Shepard went so far to say that Jack loved the kids, with how much of a hard time she gave them; especially Rodriguez—it was similar to how Jack used to insult Shepard.

They had all made it back to the Normandy without incident, aside from having to escape in a Cerberus shuttle. Shepard had taken a great deal of pleasure by spacing the shuttle once they were far enough away from the academy. Jack had convinced her to put an explosive in it and then they ran up to the observatory deck with the students and some crew members to watch the explosion. The students had cheered, mimicking some of Jack's crude antics, but everyone was happy and relatively unscathed.

The students were all currently being checked by Dr. Chakwas and had been given energy bars and juice from the mess hall. Shepard leaned against the wall by the kitchen next to Jack, arms loosely crossed over her stomach; the two just watching the students interacting with each other. Some of them looked happy to simply be eating and to be alive. Others were animatedly recounting a biotic throw or singularity that they'd thrown at a Cerberus trooper and how far they'd made them fly. Two of the boys were trying to say that they had made one fly farther than the other had.

Shepard smiled, watching them all. _I remember having counting competitions with Garrus, back when we were fighting Geth. That smug bastard never could admit defeat to a biotic,_ Shepard thought happily. Shepard glanced at Jack: she was leaning against the wall on her right shoulder, left hand across her stomach while her fingers hung off of a belt loop, her right hand up by her mouth, chewing her thumb nail. She was looking past Shepard into the med bay. Shepard raised an eyebrow and turned her head to see what she was looking at. Rodriguez was sitting atop an exam table while Dr. Chakwas as bent over, presumably inspecting the gunshot wound to her arm.

Shepard looked from the med bay back to Jack. She had to admit that she liked the change of attire and hair style. It seemed to fit her new outlook on life, having a squadron of kids to look after and all. _She looks like a worried parent,_ Shepard thought, smiling_._ She leaned over, gently bumping Jack's chest with her shoulder. "She'll be fine."

Jack blinked, moving her head and focusing on Shepard as if she'd been startled. "What?"

Shepard smiled. "You're worried about Rodriguez," she said, motioning towards the med bay with her eyebrows. "She's in the best hands she could possibly be in. She'll be fine, so stop worrying."

"Screw you, Shepard. I'm not worried," Jack spat, her eyebrows narrowing. "It's what she gets for not keeping her barrier up."

Shepard let her smile turn into a quiet laugh. "Ri—ight. Face it, your hard, badass exterior has been cracked by these kids. You wouldn't be chewing your thumb nail off if you weren't worried about her."

Jack immediately brought her hand down from her mouth, frowning.

Shepard smiled again, gently punching Jack's shoulder with her hand, pushing her off balance. "You've gone soft, Jack. I'm impressed."

Jack moved her foot, correcting her balance. "Soft? Fuck you, Shepard," Jack said playfully, returning a punch to Shepard's shoulder. It was a gesture that Shepard associated with their sibling like relationship. She brought a hand up to where Jack had made contact and mocked being in pain. Jack sneered at her. "So what if I have. These kids are the only thing keeping me useful."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about being useful to anyone?"

"After working with you, I feel like I have to be a part of something bigger. You know, do my part to make this fucked up galaxy a better place. Your Alliance brown nosing rubbed off, I guess," Jack shrugged, shaking her head. "Before I met your sorry ass, I would have happily started pilfering frigates again. But nope—here I am, teaching the next generation of badasses."

Shepard laughed quietly, sounding more like forcing air through her nose than actual laughter. "These kids are damn lucky."

"God damn right they are," Jack said, pushing away from the wall to stand in front of and face Shepard. "Before me, these kids didn't even know how to throw someone with their biotics."

"Screw you ma'am. We could too," one of the male students, who had been comparing distances, playfully retorted.

"Right, because making an old ladies skirt blow up like a passing wind is considered a biotic throw, Prangley," Jack fired back, turning towards the male student. "Now shut your face and finish your energy bar." Jack turned back toward Shepard, a defined smile etched onto her face. "Like I said, these kids would be lost without me."

Shepard nodded slowly. "I don't doubt that," she said, her voice sounded more depressing than she meant it to.

Before Jack had the chance to respond, the med bay doors opened. Rodriguez and Dr. Chakwas walked out together. Rodriguez looked a little embarrassed, but the other students immediately started clambering towards her.

"Your first battle scar? That's freaking sweet!"

"Did it hurt?"

"I wish I had gotten an injury to brag about."

Jack turned around to the commotion of her students. "Hey—give the unicorn some breathing space," she yelled, starting to make her way over. The students parted as Jack approached. Rodriguez looked down, as if she was trying to avoid Jack's gaze. The confidence she'd gained from the student's encouragements seemed to be slipping away as she shied away from Jack. "So—what'd we learn about your barrier, Rodriguez?" Jack asked harshly, stopping a foot away from the young female student.

"Always keep it up, ma'am," she responded, still not looking at Jack.

Jack gave a curt nod. "You're damn right," she said. Shepard almost gasped when Jack then stepped in close to Rodriguez and pulled her into a tight hug; Shepard bet that her expression mimicked the look of surprise on Rodriguez's face. "Don't ever scare me like that again. If you do, I'll throw you so hard you'll be wishing a gunshot wound was all you'd taken." Jack was trying to sound tough, but it came through more compassionately than any other emotion as she gripped the young girl to her, one arm tightly around her waist while the other hand was buried in the girl's hair.

Rodriguez's face finally relaxed and she hugged Jack back, burying her face into Jack's neck. She said something, but Shepard couldn't hear it.

Shepard stared, her jaw hanging open. _I never thought _**Jack**_ would be the one to change for the better during this war._

"Who died," Shepard heard Garrus say as he walked out of the forward battery room and noticed the scene in the mess hall.

Shepard shook her head. "No one, Jack's just gone soft."

"I see that."

"I heard that, you fuckers!" Jack said, releasing Rodriguez from her matronly hug and turning around to face them, wiping a casual hand across her face. Shepard eyed her, knowing that Jack had wiped away a tear.

"Aw, c'mon Jack," Garrus started, leaning against the kitchen counter. "If you can turn soft, then maybe we can convince the reapers the error of their ways and get them to leave peacefully."

Shepard tried to stifle her laughter, but only proceeded to shake her shoulders and make her face turn red.

"Alright, Shepard," Jack started, turning back to her small crowd of students. "Who wants to see me kick the crap out of the _**legendary**_ Commander Shepard?"

The students started to cheer. Shepard stood upright, pointing to Garrus. "Whoa, whoa wait! He's the one who made the joke. Kick his ass!" Shepard playfully deflected.

Jack shook her head. "Naw—the poor bastard has to walk around with that face. I don't want to injure his pride any more than it already is."

There was a collective "ooooh" from the students. Garrus snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yup—this face still gets more action than you ever will, Zero."

Another wave of "ooooh" came from the students as they watched the two adults throw playful insults back and forth like a tennis match.

This continued for a few minutes, Garrus and Jack firing witty comebacks as quickly as the next could throw them. Shepard stood there, grinning, taking in all of the laughter from the students, and letting herself laugh at a few of the lines (especially the one fired by Jack about Garrus using "Calibrate" as a code word for masturbation). Dr. Chakwas stood behind the students, a regal hand covering her mouth to hide the fact that she was smiling, too. Liara had also come out of her room, holding a datapad and stopped dead when she noticed Garrus and Jack's banter. She stood there, smiling, watching, and letting herself laugh on occasion.

_God I miss this,_ Shepard thought, glad to have joyous sounds of people around her. Her attention finally focused back on Jack when she blurted, "Right because calibrating big guns is more impressive than demolishing a whole space frigate with my pure biotic prowess." Before Garrus responded, Jack continued. "But I'm still gonna kick your ass, Shepard."

Shepard laughed. "I think you have a better chance of kissing Garrus than kicking my ass."

Another wave from the students egged Jack on. "Oh yea!? Seriously kids, who wants to see me smear the wall with Shepard's face?"

The students cheered.

"Yeah!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"C'mon, Commander! We wanna see what all the hype is about!"

"Jack's said you're like the best biotic in the galaxy!"

And more that Shepard couldn't quite catch as they were all speaking at once. She thought about it for a moment, staring in Jack's playfully determined eyes. _Bah—what the hell, _she thought as she grinned, pushing off of the wall and walked up to Jack, getting within arm's reach of her. "Alright. You're on, sweet cheeks," she started, using a nickname that she knew Jack despised. Jack pursed her lips, but Shepard continued, stepping in closer to her, leaving only a few inches between their faces. "But don't expect me to kiss your ass after I've pinned it to the floor." Shepard pretended to be serious, feebly forcing the laugher out of her voice. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile and betray her attempted acting.

Jack returned the smile as the students went into an uproar of cheering. Jack nodded to her, as if to say thank you. Shepard nodded back with a wink, letting herself grin.

"Well then it's settled," Garrus chimed from behind. "Time to finally see these to ladies go at it."

"Dammit, why does all the cool shit happen while I'm stuck in the cockpit," Joker's voice sounded from the intercom.

"To the shuttle bay, bi—kids!" Jack yelled, correcting herself from saying "bitches" as she shot her hand up into the air while extending only her forefinger.

The students all began moving at once, their excitement showing in their hurried steps to get to the elevators. Jack let them rush ahead, hanging back and grabbing Shepard by the arm. "Thanks," she said softly, only for Shepard to hear.

Shepard pulled her into a side hug, only for Dr. Chakwas, Liara, and Garrus to see as all the students were clambering over each other to get to the elevator. "Any time," Shepard said before Jack pushed her off, a smile still lingering in her eyes. "I'll go easy on you."

"Ha! I won't. Can't let the students see me lose to an alliance pussy like you," Jack said, hitting Shepard's shoulder.

"Oh—is that how we're going to play it," Shepard retorted, firing off a shot to Jack's shoulder.

"Now, now ladies. The fight can't start here," Garrus said, walking towards the two women. "Unless this is going to turn into the sexy fantasy we've all been waiting for," he continued, waggling his mandibles.

Liara brought the back of her hand up to her mouth, hiding her amusement.

Jack and Shepard both turned and gave him a flat stare, mouths hanging slightly ajar. Garrus put his hands up to his chest, palms out. "Too much?"

Jack and Shepard both raised their eyebrows and nodded their heads simultaneously.

"Commander, could I have a word before you descend to the shuttle bay," Dr. Chakwas said from behind the group of Adults.

"Make is snappy, Doc. She's gotta face the music and get creamed in front a room of kids," Jack said, practically skipping off towards the elevators, Garrus closely in tow. "C'mon, T'Soni. You too!"

Liara looked from Jack, to Shepard, and to her datapad. She shrugged and walked towards the elevator.

Shepard turned her attention to Dr. Chakwas. She was hoping she'd get out of being alone with her. Shepard had ignored her summons to come and have an exam. "What can I do for you?"

"Commander, as the medical professional aboard this ship, I don't think it wise to do what you're about to do," Chakwas replied, carefully articulating her words.

"We're just having fun, Doctor. Just like when you and I share a bottle of brandy," Shepard replied. "We could all use some fun in our lives right now. So—why don't you come down with us!" Shepard finished, thinking she'd pulled the perfect ploy to avoid having an exam forced upon her. It wasn't that she was worried what Chakwas would say—she knew what that would be. Shepard knew that she needed more sleep, and the conversational arguments she'd been having with herself weren't healthy either. But it wasn't anything new and she didn't want to talk about it. She'd dealt with it in the past and didn't see any issues with continuing to deal with it on her own.

Chakwas eyed her, probably fully aware of Shepard's intention of avoiding an exam. She then let out a sigh. "Oh, alright," She finally conceded. "Good idea to be there in case you two get out of hand and throw a crate at an innocent bystander, in the very least. But after this is over, I demand that you come and see me for an exam," she finished sternly. Shepard simply nodded in agreement, hoping that she'd forget when the fight was over.

"Hurry up, slow ass!" Jack yelled as she poked her head around the corner of the elevator. "Get your ass in here so I know you aren't trying to tuck tail and run away!"

* * *

Samantha stood in the CIC counting down the minutes until her shift was over. She was exhausted from another night of restless sleep—not to mention the mission Shepard and her team had recently returned from. Shepard had taken James and Garrus to evacuate the students and had been quite successful; but they hadn't been prepared for such a large number of Cerberus troops to be there. Everyone had made it back to the ship unscathed, but the comm. chatter between James and Shepard had been tense.

Samantha had spent the mission, doing what she could to help, but mainly analyzed a few random Alliance channels to keep herself from chewing her nails off. She was trying to see if she could extrapolate any other slightly shady response signals. But it had been difficult going as the power on the Normandy kept fluctuating, booting Samantha out of her computer every so often. Samantha asked Jeff to look into it and he responded that EDI was looking into it. Samantha found it hard to believe, because EDI would have had found the problem by now.

It had crossed her mind to do an analysis herself, but she was just too tired. She'd spent the night before tossing and turning in her bunk in the crew quarters, going over the things that Shepard had said to her as she was leaving the port side observatory room. What Shepard had asked her, asked her to promise, still resonated in her head. She still thought that that conversation had been a dream; the look on Shepard's face had been too intimate for the situation. Samantha knew that Shepard meant those words, making Samantha promise to not let the war change her, but she couldn't figure out why Shepard had brought it up. But the simple conversation had made it almost impossible for Samantha to quell her school girl crush on her Commanding Officer, thwarting her intention of trying to forget about it.

Shepard had been in deep thought before Samantha had burst in and interrupted her. Samantha had laid awake, wondering what Shepard could have possibly been thinking about before she'd entered the observation room. Had something gone wrong while talking with the Asari councilor? Was it something to do with the Krogan? Samantha had posed more questions, lying awake in her bunk the night before, than she had answered.

While she now stood in the CIC, she couldn't help but run the series of questions through her mind again. She'd wanted to go and look at Shepard's service files to see if she could understand more about her Commanding Officer, but what little she saw before a power fluctuation booted her from the system was classified red tape, or heavily redacted.

_You know, you could always just ask her,_ she thought to herself, idly clicking out of a window with just a few minutes left to her shift. _Right, because the Commanding Officer of the Normandy has enough down time to explain to you, a lowly Comm. Specialist, her back story and why she is the way she is._

Samantha let out a sigh, closing out of her console. There wasn't anything more that she could accomplish today, especially if the Normandy's power continued to fluctuate as it had been. They were headed to the Citadel, where she was sure the Normandy would have a full electrical inspection. She still had two minutes left of her shift, but she shrugged tiredly and turned from her console towards the elevator.

She tapped the button for the elevator and waited. She was tired, but not tired enough to warrant turning in for the night. But then, she had a thought. _What if I asked Dr. T'Soni? She might be able to give me some insight into Shepard._

She nodded as the doors slid open for the elevator. Not only would it give her a chance to find out more about her Commanding Officer, but it might give her someone new to talk to. During the retrofits she had found comfort talking with Steve Cortez, down in the shuttle bay. Not only because he was a fellow rainbow team player, but because he was one of the few people who understood her off kilter humor. But ever since the Normandy went active, she could never find the time to go down to talk to him because he was either on mission with Shepard or fixing the Kodiak, which Samantha just got in the way of.

A few crew members walked out of the elevator; Samantha smiled and nodded to them all as they passed her, but they were too caught up excitedly talking amongst themselves to notice her. Samantha caught something that sounded like:

"That was one hell of an explosion!"

"By far the best way to dispose of a Cerberus shuttle."

"I've always wanted to watch something get spaced!"

Samantha watched them walk and disburse to their stations on the CIC, continuing their animated chatter. _Explosion? _Before her thoughts could get carried away, the elevator doors began to slide shut. Samantha put a hurried arm between the doors and it opened back up, allowing her to board.

_Why do I always get left out? I'm fun, right?_ She thought as the doors slid shut and she hit the "3" button. She pursed her lips together at the thought. It wasn't that she felt left out, but she also didn't really feel included. _It's not like there is a whole lot of "hey let's do crew bonding night" going on on-board the Normandy. It was just probably a spur of the moment thing…_ she reasoned with herself. Only then did she notice that she had the beginnings of a headache brewing above her temples.

She let out a sigh as the elevator doors began to open. She knew that her headaches were bound to kick in again, but she didn't have any of her meds. _Well, we're headed to the Citadel, maybe I can get my prescriptions there. _As she looked up to move out of the elevator she had to stop, taking a quick step back into the elevator doorway as a group of teenagers practically skipped and walked past the elevator doors towards the starboard side of the ship. Samantha narrowed her eyes as she watched the teens pass, all excitedly talking amongst themselves and grabbing each other's shoulders as they spoke.

"That was awesome!"

"Did you see how the metal just tore apart?!"

"Yeah—screw Cerberus!"

"I had no idea an explosion would actually happen in space—lack of oxygen and all."

_Shepard allowed the Cerberus shuttle to be blown up?!_ Samantha thought, listening intently to what the students were yammering on about. _Did she think to look for a homing device on the shuttle to see if we could locate the Cerberus base?_

Samantha's thoughts of scolding Shepard for not using the shuttle as an advantage vanished as Shepard rounded the corner, a smile elatedly showing on her face. She was accompanied by a woman wearing a barely there shirt made of straps that revealed she was covered in tattoos and a most interesting haircut of buzzed sides and a long pony tail. "Thanks for going along with it, Shepard. It's just what the kids needed," the tattoo woman said.

Shepard openly laughed with the tattooed woman as they continued towards the elevator, where Samantha still stood, slightly awestruck. "Oh please—you just wanted to blow shit up on the Alliance's dime, Jack."

"Hell yeah I do," the woman, apparently named Jack, replied, smacking Shepard's shoulder with the back of her hand, laughter still in her voice.

Shepard chuckled and then happened to look up, noticing Samantha standing in the elevator doorway. Her laughter turned into a smile, as her eyes made contact with Samantha's. Then she winked and continued to walk with Jack.

Samantha instantly felt her checks flush as the all too familiar fluttering feeling hit her heart. _How!? How can she do that with a simple wink?!_ Samantha thought, letting out a slow breath in an effort to get her cheeks to return to a normal color. **You're**_ typically the giant flirt… not the stammering idiot._

Samantha looked, making sure that Shepard and Jack were the last ones in the line of people and then finished stepping out of the elevator, the doors immediately closing behind her. _Whoops,_ she thought, thinking someone had summoned the elevator on a different floor and was impatiently waiting.

"Oh, Specialist Traynor," Samantha heard Shepard say from behind her.

Samantha snapped her attention around. Shepard was leaning around the corner of the elevator shaft, hands on the walls and looking straight at Samantha. "Oh—yes, Commander?" _Stop it, stop it stop it stop it with the blushing! _she thought frantically.

"Did you by chance give Kahlee Sanders clearance to use the vid-comm?" Shepard asked, raising a friendly eyebrow.

"Yes, Commander," Samantha sputtered out. "She came to see me straight away after you all returned from Grissom. I established a secure feed to Admiral Anderson for her. "

"Perfect. Keep up the good work, Traynor!" and with another wink, she straightened up, disappearing behind the corner.

Despite the heat in her cheeks returning at full force from the second wink, Samantha felt her shoulders fall as she bit the inner part of her lower lip. _I don't get it—she was calling that other woman by her first name. Why doesn't she use my first name when other people are around? She used my first name last night in the observatory room…_

She shook her head. _You're in the military, Traynor. It's considered too informal to use first names. You know that. Since joining the military, _**everyone**_ calls you Traynor. Hell—you call yourself Traynor._ She let out another sigh and then started walking at a full pace towards Dr. T'Soni's quarters. She rounded the corner of the elevator shaft and noticed that all of the students had migrated into the med bay and were queuing up for an exam by the salt and peppered haired Dr. Chakwas.

_That's the Doctor that EDI mentioned who made Shepard so uncomfortable last night… _Samantha thought as she looked and continued walking. Shepard was distinctly standing outside the confines of the med bay, leaning against the wall with the slender Jack.

Samantha was forced to look away when the wall of the alcove that Dr. T'Soni's room was set back into broke her line of site. She cleared her throat and knocked on the door.

The holo on the door spun for a moment; Samantha was beginning to think that there was another power fluctuation at the rate it was taking when the door finally slid open. Samantha was immediately greeted by a floating blue orb that seemed to be in a constant rotation. "Hello, Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor. How may I be of service," the orb's synthetic voice helpfully offered.

Samantha blinked at it a few times, wondering what it was and how it knew her name before responding. "I—um. I'm here to see Dr. T'Soni."

"Dr. T'Soni is currently busy and has asked me to direct all visitors to come back at a later time."

Samantha blinked, leaning to the side to try and look past the floating orb. The room was covered in vid screens, had multiple consoles wired along the walls, and a large energy generator. She saw Dr. T'Soni sitting at a desk on the other side of the generator, hunched over something—probably another console.

"I can tell Dr. T'Soni of your desire to see her and send you a message when she is available, Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor," the orb said, moving in front of Samantha's view of the room.

"Oh, right," she said, straightening her posture. _Though, I think_ **desire**_ isn't the right idea.._. "Thanks, err…"

"Dr. T'Soni has named me Glyph."

"Right. Thanks… Glyph."

"Of course Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor." It began moving closer to Samantha, slowly making her step backward. "Have a pleasant day," it said once she had stepped out the doorway. The door immediately shut.

Samantha stood there for a moment, staring at the door. _I was just kicked out of a room by a floating VI…_ she blinked a few times before she let out a short breath. _Better than being thrown out by biotics, I suppose._ She turned around and started heading back towards the crew bunks. She let herself look over her left shoulder as she walked, noticing that some students had come out into the mess hall and were still adamantly talking amongst themselves. As she continued, the kitchen area came into view; Shepard was rummaging through the cupboards above the counter. Samantha slowed her pace—unaware of how obvious she was as she stared at her CO. Shepard was on the tip of her toes, trying to look at the various shelves. Her attire was similar to what she had been wearing the night before after returning from Menae: she wore tight, flexible pants that clung to every defined muscle on her legs and butt, and a grungy white tank top that revealed the black color of her bra underneath.

_They all probably have N7 slapped on somewhere too, I'll wager,_ Samantha thought to herself with a smirk. _I wonder if there's even an emblem on her bra… or her panties…_

As Shepard continued to rummage, the back of her tank top started to eek up her back, revealing her pale skin. Samantha looked, wondering if she saw the bottom part of a large looking scar when her shoulder suddenly collided with the back corner of the elevator shaft. She took a startled step to the right, looking at the corner she'd bumped into. She looked around quickly, to see if anyone had noticed but all the students were eagerly grabbing whatever Shepard had started tossing to them.

"Eat up, guys!" she heard Shepard say from the kitchen area. Samantha finally noticed that they were energy bars that she was tossing about.

Samantha didn't want to chance embarrassing herself any further and decided she needed to be as far away from Shepard as she could get. Even though she'd sworn to herself that she wouldn't fixate on her infatuation for her Commander, whenever she was around Samantha always felt like a blubbering fool—especially when other people were present. The other night in the observatory had been the most at east she'd been around her—and even then she had still felt extremely nervous.

She made her way back to the elevator, hitting "5." She knew that Steve was going to be busy, but she needed someone to talk to. She was even willing to listen to Steve pine about wishing the Normandy was equipped with a Hammerhead instead of the Kodiak—anything to get her mind off of Shepard.

It wasn't that Samantha disliked life aboard the Normandy—it was just that she didn't find that she had the time to really be herself and talk with her crewmates. During the retrofits, it wasn't uncommon for her to spend her lunch in the mess with multiple people, joking about the latest news gossip or celebrity crisis. But since going active, the large group lunches and breaks came to an abrupt end.

_I'm sure Commander Shepard wouldn't care if we still had those types of breaks,_ Samantha thought. _I mean… I know we're working to save life as we know it, but we're still human. We all need to laugh some. Maybe I should buy some funny hats when we dock at the Citadel and wear them in the CIC—while wearing a fake mustache!_ She smiled to herself in the silent elevator. _Comm. Specialist Traynor… ship jester. I think I like the sound of that._

She spent the rest of the elevator ride thinking of funny things she could do while working in the CIC. If there was one thing that she learned from basic, aside from her terrible aim with guns, it was that morale was of the utmost importance and that she was great at raising it.

The doors slid open, revealing the relatively empty shuttle bay. Steve stood over on the port side of the bay at what Samantha always thought was his desk. She could faintly hear the sound of someone exhaling off to the starboard side. As she walked over to Steve's desk area, a large, solid muscled man who was doing pull ups in a decently sized alcove made of storage crates came into her view.

_Figures that James Mr. Muscles Vega is working out. It's not like he just came back from a mission or anything._ Samantha didn't look long at James—all of the rippling muscle made her skin crawl and her stomach turn. She was happy that she was interested in the ladies only. She could never understand heterosexual women's fascination with heavily muscled men; but she was one less woman trying to nab one, so she figured that she helping to tip the scales in favor for the actually interested women.

She walked up behind Steve, not announcing her presence. Steve was hunched over a large circuit board, tools scattered all about. As quietly as she could, Samantha inched closer, using both hands to poke him on either side of the ribs.

Steve jumped as something sparked and he made an audible squeal. Samantha giggled as she moved up next to him. She leaned her backside on his desk, her body facing out to the shuttle bay, but turned her head to look at Steve. He shook his hand and playfully glared at her. "Real mature, Sam."

"What?" she feigned.

"I could have electrocuted myself."

Samantha snorted. "Well, that's what you get for not unplugging the thing while you're working on it. Really, how _**did**_ you graduate basic?"

Steve chuckled, gently pushing Samantha with his shoulder. "Right, says the computer geek wonder who can't shoot."

"Yup, that's me," Samantha said, returning the shoulder bump.

"She's at least got a smokin' hot body, Esteban," Samantha heard James from across the shuttle bay. She glanced up, raising her eyebrow as she watched him walk towards them. "She isn't all skinny, like you."

Samantha did a slow blink, flattening her eyebrows as she narrowed her eyes and frowned. She wasn't sure what James was implying. _Well… he is from Mexico… they like their women curvy,_ Samantha thought. Samantha was brought back to the present as Steve laughed. "Oh really, Mr. Vega?"

"Yeah—really. She's got some meat on her," he said, a clear sneer across his face as he leaned against a support beam, looking Samantha up and down.

"You know, I can hear… and I _**am**_ right here," Samantha said, not changing her flat expression and crossing her arms over her stomach.

"Yes you are," James said slowly, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve continued to laugh. "Too bad she plays for the wrong team."

"What? What do you mean," James asked, looking from Samantha to Steve.

She shrugged. "Steve and I play on the rainbow team," she said matter-o-factly. "We even have rainbow colored team shirts and flag."

"You damn homos, hogging the whole color spectrum," James joked, pushing off of the beam. "Well—if you ever question your team choice, I'd let you test out the other team on me, if you know what I mean."

Samantha blinked, opened her mouth to say something and then closed it, looking at Steve. He just smiled at her, silently laughing. She shook her head. "As magnificent as your pectoral muscled are, Mr. Vega, they just aren't the same as breasts."

James grinned. "No? Give 'em a squeeze," he said, moving forward and flexing his arms, making his pectoral muscles taught.

Samantha raised her eyebrows and glanced at Steve, who shrugged. Samantha returned the shrug, pushing off of his work table. She walked up to James, overly articulating the motion of her hips as she did so and stopped just a few inches away from him; she moved her head, flipping her hair to the side as she placed both hands on his shoulders while she let out a slow sigh. She pursed her lips as she made eye contact with him. She slowly started to move her hands down, over his collar bone and down to his chest, never breaking eye contact with him. He nodded his head up, raising his eyebrows up once. She moved in closer to him, almost so that their chests touched as she moved her hands down his chest and back up slowly, like she'd done so many times with woman.

Only when James made an audible swallow did Samantha abruptly move away. "Yeah—it's just not doing for me," she said, shaking her head and taking a few steps back.

"Oh that's cold," James said, shrugging his arms and moving his head from side to side. "Damn," he shook his head as he took a few steps in place, letting his arms fall to his side.

Samantha grinned, leaning back against Steve's working desk. Steve chuckled. "Looks like someone needs a cold shower."

"Yeah, yeah," James said waving a dismissive hand, moving towards some storage crates to the right of Steve's workspace.

"You know, Vega. You ever think you might be batting for the wrong team, I'd be more than willing to let you have a test ride," Steve joked as James passed.

James clapped him on the back. "You know, if I ever wanted the dick, you'd be my first booty call."

Samantha brought a hand up to her mouth to hide her snickering. She'd never seen such an obviously heterosexual male be so unfazed when joking about gay sex. He was obviously one hundred percent secure with his sexuality. Most men of James' stature typically became verbally violent if they were in a conversation like the one that he and Steve had just shared. Samantha smiled. H_e seems like a good guy, _she thought, deciding that she liked James and was no longer indifferent towards him.

"Awe, I'm flattered," Steve said, bringing an overly exaggerated effeminate hand to his chest.

"Anyway," James said, continuing towards the storage crates. "You mind if I rummage through these? I need a new barrel for my Assault Rifle," James asked, thumbing towards the boxes.

"Help yourself. Those ones are standard Alliance issue, so they won't cost you anything. Need anything fancier than that, you'll have to show me your wallet," Steve said, turning back to his circuit board.

Samantha was amazed how the two men bantered with each other and then could go straight back to talking shop. She knew that Steve had been going through a hard time; only two months prior to be stationed on board the Normandy to help with the retrofits had Steve's husband, Robert, passed away while they were both stationed on Ferris Fields. Samantha had been one of the few crew members who would come down and pull him out of the shuttle bay for lunch, making him socialize with other people. The fact that he was joking about sex with James was a good sign. She didn't even notice the sting in his eyes that he used to show during lunches when he'd make a sarcastic remark about relationships.

She turned around and hugged him around the shoulders, putting her head in the crook of his neck. She felt him smile as he brought a hand up to her arm. They didn't have to say anything—they both knew why she hugged him.

Steve had been there for her within the first week of the retrofits. She'd left the R&D lab to come and work on the Normandy. She'd had an on again off again girlfriend while she was there, Natalie. Samantha had never quite been the same after the collector attack on Horizon while she was there on leave visiting her parents. The third day aboard the Normandy, Samantha had received a rather nasty email from Natalie, explaining why it was over for good this time and how she couldn't deal with the whole "collector pity party" anymore. Steve had found her crying behind some of the boxes in the shuttle bay that day. He had been the one to pull her out of her stupor, quicker than anyone else had ever done. They'd become extremely close during the retrofits and the crew had dubbed them "the adorable married couple" after a week or so.

Samantha finally let him go, returning to leaning next to him. "So, when we dock at the Citadel, we should go do something."

"Maybe next time we dock. I've still got a lot of work to do on fixing up the Kodiak from Vega's midair collision," Steve replied, grabbing a cloth to wipe part of the circuit board.

"What? That was back on Mars…" Samantha replied, recalling that that was their first mission straight out from Earth; the mission that had put Shepard's old teammate, Ashley, in the hospital.

"Yeah—Mr. Vega did a real number on the Kodiak."

"To save the day, pendejo!" James sounded from the storage crates, tucking a few barrels under his arm and closing the lid. He turned around and started walking towards the starboard side of the shuttle bay, presumably towards the gun calibration table.

"Ri—ight," Steve responded, shaking his head.

"Come on Steve, you have to get some down time in," Samantha said. "And you know I need someone to make sure that I don't get myself into trouble. The Citadel is crawling with beautiful women, after all."

"Beautiful Asari women, mostly. I thought the blue skin and lack of hair would creep you out," Steve said playfully.

"Hey—boobs are boobs, my dear friend."

"Amen to that!" James voiced as he set a few things down on the calibration table, moving to then pick up his rifle from the shuttle bay floor.

Samantha smiled. "So what do you say?"

"Maybe next time, Sam. I really have to get the Kodiak in order. Especially if we're going to Tuchanka, like Victus wants us to."

"Alright," Samantha said dejectedly. "I guess being ready to save the galaxy _**is**_ more important."

They shared a smile, and then Samantha glanced over to James; he was now inspecting each barrel next to his assault rifle. Samantha eyed one of the discarded barrels; she started thinking of ways she could clean it and then recalibrate parts of it and make the whole thing—_real classy, Traynor. You're seriously eyeing the discarded rifle part and wondering how you could turn it into a vibrator. Good god, you need to get laid._ She shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself. It had been just around seven months since the last time she'd had sex, and it hadn't been all that exciting then. It had been with Natalie and she had never really been all too exciting in the bedroom department. That, and Samantha had found that there just wasn't any privacy aboard the Normandy to…take care of things herself. _Unless Shepard let me use that gigantic shower of hers…_ Samantha thought. _There's plenty of room and privacy there._

As she continued to watch James compare barrels, Samantha's mind continued wondering, fantasizing about a shower with room to stretch. And the fact that it was up in Shepard's room brought about an unexpected image—Shepard's naked body, showering alongside hers. Samantha felt her knees slacken slightly at the thought, feeling the blood rushing to her face and between her legs. _Big enough shower, _she thought, _for Shepard to give me a hand._

_Really—you go for hand? _She scolded herself, the enticing image in her head dissolving in a matter of seconds. She shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh, looking away from James at the calibration table. No matter where she was on the ship, or what she was doing, Shepard always had a habit of invading her thoughts and making her blush. She was getting tired of the constant confusion that surrounded her thoughts about Shepard. _Maybe getting laid will make some of those thoughts go away,_ she thought. _Maybe I could message Natalie…_

"Everything alright?" Steve sounded from her right.

Quickly forgoing the idea of contacting Natalie, Samantha snapped her attention, looking at Steve who was eyeing her for being so quiet for so long. "Yeah—everything's fine. Just remembering things I should be doing in the CIC," she lied, pushing off of Steve's desk. "I guess I should probably get back to it."

Steve eyed her for a moment longer, narrowing his eyes as he took note of her flushed cheeks.

Before she moved, the elevator doors opened and let loose a flood of excited students into the shuttle bay. Samantha, Steve, and James all looked up with the same quizzical expression. Some of the male students were jumping on each other while the female students were chatting excitedly in tight groups.

"Right—I should get back to it then," Samantha said, as the elevator opened again, releasing more students into the shuttle bay.

"Alright, see ya," Steve said, looking from his circuit board to the dozen or so students now in his shuttle bay.

Samantha quickly walked over to the elevator, making a noticeable effort to not look at the calibration table for fear she'd start blushing again. As she reached for the elevator buttons, the doors slid open and Samantha was face to face with Shepard. She blinked, not knowing what to do, hoping that the color in her cheeks had faded. She blinked again and looked at the rest of the elevator party: Dr. T'Soni, Garrus, Dr. Chakwas, and the woman named Jack were in the elevator with her, all with smiles on their faces.

"Oh—um, excuse me, Commander," Samantha said, finally making a motion to step to the side.

Shepard stepped off, stepping towards her as the other elevator occupants began to file out. "Where are you headed?" she asked, leaning towards Samantha, allowing room for Garrus to pass behind her.

The motion of people walking behind her and the fact that she was now barely a foot away from her made Samantha's nose fill with the smell of a plain soap, mixed with a stale salty scent. The smell made Samantha's knees slacken—the smell reminded her of cuddling after sex. "Well—I, err, I have some—" Samantha muttered, unable to form a coherent thought. _Shit! Get sex off of your brain, Traynor!_

"You'll miss the show!" Jack said loudly, walking past Shepard. "Everyone's about to see me kick the shit out of Shepard."

Shepard put her left hand up against the wall and leaned, looking towards Jack. Her position made it impossible for Samantha to move away without being obvious about it, and it also made Shepard a few inches closer to Samantha. "Right Jack, keep inflating that ego. It'll make a bigger pop when I pin it to the floor," Shepard yelled after her. She grinned, looking back at Samantha. "Whatever you've got going on, Traynor, it can wait. You should stay," she finished, tilting her head slightly to her left.

Samantha looked from Shepard to the crowd that was now formed in the shuttle bay. The only person missing, it seemed like, was Moreau. She looked back at Shepard, making eye contact with her ridiculously green eyes, Shepard's unique scent invading her senses. "Is that an order, Commander?" she asked coyly, narrowing her eyes. After she said it, she fought the urge to grimace; it had sounded far too much like she was trying to flirt.

Shepard's smiled moved to her eyes. With a wink she said, "I could make it one," she responded with an equally flirtatious tone.

Samantha fought the urge to bite her lower lip as she felt the heat in her cheeks return. _For fuck sake, Traynor, it's just a wink…and the fact that she's quite possibly flirting with you…_ "A-alright, Commander," she said.

Shepard nodded, pushing off of the wall with her hand. With one last smile she turned and bounded past the students to the open shuttle bay floor, stretching her arms as she went.

Samantha let out a slow breath. Her conversation with Shepard had been muted by the loud clambering of students, arguing who they thought was going to win whatever was about to happen. She made one final breath in attempts to regain her composure and then moved towards where Steve was now standing by the requisition console.

Samantha tried to avoid looking at Shepard as she leaned next to Steve. He nudged her shoulder with his as he crossed his arms over his stomach. "Ah—I see what's going on."

Samantha eyed him as she crossed her arms. "What?"

He leaned into her, whispering into her ear. "You've got a thing for our Commanding Officer, don't you?"

She felt her jaw tighten as her eyes widened. She spun her attention, coming only a few inches away from his face. "Is it that bloody obvious?!" she worriedly hissed back.

Steve's eyes widened as his mouth made a silent "O" shape. "Well—no. I was just teasing you because you're blushing… but if that's the case—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Samantha elbowed him in the ribs. "Say another word and I'll bloody end you," she hushed him.

He started to laugh, rubbing his side. He replied quietly, "Alright, alright. But I hope you're planning on filling me in on all the details eventually."

Samantha mock glared at him. "That's why I wanted to go to the Citadel with you," she said, continuing to speak in a low volume; not that anyone could hear them over the chatter of the students. "You know—to have one of our girly gossip sessions."

"In that case, I think I can spare an hour or two once we dock," he said, smiling at her with a wink.

_Does everyone on this ship wink? _Samantha thought as she returned the smile and then focused back on the events in shuttle bay. Both Shepard and Jack were stretching, seemingly prolonging whatever was about to happen. Her eyes lingered on Shepard, who was stretching her arm over her head and tilting to the side, exposing the bottom of her side. _But hers are the only ones that get me… every time. _

"Alright ladies," Jack suddenly announced, getting everyone's attention. "Here's how this is going to go down."

"We're not all ladies, ma'am!" one of the male students refuted.

"Like I said, _ladies," _Jack continued after giving the student an "oh please" face, lips pursed out, one eyebrow raised higher than the other.

James laughed, flexing his biceps. "They may be a bunch of little girls, but not this man."

Samantha couldn't help herself. "I thought we already established that you have glorious, lesbian worthy breasts, Vega."

Dr. Chakwas put a hand up to her mouth, presumably hiding a laugh. Garrus threw his head back and laughed openly. Dr. T'Soni looked befuddled. The students made an elongated "ooooh." Jack grinned and nodded her head in approval. None of their reactions quite topped that of Shepard's; she looked at Samantha and smiled—but it was different that her normal smiled. It was softer, as though something that Samantha had said had pleased her. Samantha only glanced at her, but didn't dare make eye contact, for fear of blushing.

"Oh, I knew I liked you, Traynor," Garrus said, still laughing.

"You wound me, Chiquita," James said, shaking his head with a smile.

Samantha smiled. It felt good that the entire shuttle bay was laughing because of something she said. _See, Comm. Specialist Jester Traynor… It definitely works._

"So _**ladies**_—and before one of you interrupts me, you are all ladies, or I got a biotic shockwave ready for the next persons face who disagrees," she said, flaring her fist with her biotics. Garrus snickered, but otherwise the shuttle bay was quiet. "Here's how this is going to go down. First one pinned to the floor loses. Bets are encouraged," she finished with a grin.

Shepard chuckled behind her and then ran her hands through her hair. It looked like she reached for a hair tie on her wrist, but found nothing. She put her hands down and scoped the room. "Do any of you have a hair tie I could borrow?"

Before Samantha had the chance to offer up the one on her own wrist, a female student started jumping up and down. "Oh, I do!" she said, a little too excitedly as she pulled the hair tie out of her own hair and holding it up for Shepard to see.

Shepard smiled and walked forward at a brisk pace, taking it from the girl. "Thanks," she said quickly, already starting to put her hair up. With her hands still up in her hair she winked at the girl and then turned to head back to the open area of the shuttle bay. Samantha noticed the female student made an excited face to the girl standing next to her, the one that girls make when their crush says something to them for the first time.

Before Samantha could stop herself she thought: _Does she wink at everyone?! At least I'm not the only one that it flusters, I guess. _

"And remember," Shepard sounded, sternly as she finished tying her hair back. Samantha couldn't help but notice that, with her hair pulled away from her face, Shepard's pronounce facial features became even more apparent. Samantha couldn't help but take in how beautiful she was; long thin scars and all; had she not bee Alliance, she would have no doubt been recruited as a model. "What happens on the Normandy _**stays**_ on the Normandy. If I find this circulating the xtranet, I'll figure out who posted it and pay them a little visit. We clear?" Shepard finished, pointing a serious finger at all of the students.

"Understood, ma'am!" All the students said at once.

Shepard nodded, satisfied with the response. "Alright sweet cheeks—let's do this," she said to Jack.

"You're on!" Jack said, peeling off the small leather jacket that she had been wearing to expose a revealing top. The closest thing that Samantha could relate it to was a halter top: Her chest was covered, by as much as most bras would have covered. Straps went up around her neck, crossed again by her shoulder blades, and one final time in the middle of her back. Most of her midriff was left exposed, showing off her cacophony of tattoos. Only one final cris-crossing of fabric provided any cover, just under her navel, to her stomach. The material seemed to continue to cris-crossing down her legs, if what was viewable of the open side of her pants was any indication.

Samantha was admittedly staring at Jack's body. She was in perfect shape, and among all her tattoos were scars. She was the type of girl that she had wanted to go after in high school, to spite her parents after she'd come out to them. She smirked to herself, half wishing that Shepard would peel off her tank top, knowing full well that Shepard would be someone her father could very well approve of.

Shepard however, did not oblige to Samantha's mental request. Shepard stood there, hands on her hips, seemingly waiting for Jack to make the first move. Jack threw her coat towards the small crowd and then flung some sort of biotic energy at Shepard. Shepard dodged with ease, but didn't throw anything back.

_This might get ugly, _Samantha said, noticing the sheer power behind Jack's first throw. It dissipated as it hit the back of the shuttle bay, but it had been powerful enough to generate a small amount of wind inside. Despite her apprehension to how intense the fight might get, she was excited to finally see biotics used in person.

Jack threw a few more throws at Shepard, beginning to circle and moving away from the onlookers. Once she was sufficiently away from crowd of students, Shepard unleashed a shockwave that Jack barely dodged. Samantha had expected the students to be cheering, but they were dead silent, eagerly watching the two women throw biotics at one another.

Shepard threw shockwaves at alarmingly fast rate, giving Jack little chance to throw anything of her own. The way the Shepard systematically threw the waves kept Jack pinned next to the Kodiak staging area. Samantha glanced at Steve, who grimaced every time a wave jolted the Kodiak. Looking back at the brawl, Samantha couldn't help but smile at Shepard's tactic. _She'd be a mean chess player,_ she thought, watching Shepard perfectly time each wave, and throwing a charge every so often to keep Jack on her toes.

Jack finally caught a break and lifted one of crates that walled James' alcove. She pulled it towards Shepard, hitting her in the shoulder and knocking her off balance.

Shepard's barrier flared, pushing the crate away and letting it land with a loud thud a few feet away, towards the shuttle bay doors. Samantha heard Steve take a sharp inhale. Apparently whatever was in that crate had been valuable or fragile, or both. Jack then threw a biotic throw that clipped Shepard in the shoulder, causing her to whirl around.

Jack rushed Shepard, making a biotically charged swing for her face. Shepard ducked at the last second and brought her own biotic fist into Jack's stomach. Jack took the hit, bringing both of her hands together and hitting Shepard in the back, pushing her forward. Shepard made an audible groan, but used the momentum from Jack's hit to summersault forward to get away from her. Jack dropped to her hands and swung with her legs, catching Shepard's foot as she tried to stand. Shepard stumbled again and Jack made a grab for her.

Before Samantha really knew what happened, Shepard seemed to dematerialize and phase past Jack, coming to a stop about ten feet away and immediately throwing a charge at Jack. It hit her in the shoulder, causing her to roll onto the ground. She quickly jumped up, a grin plastered to her face, and threw a shockwave back. Shepard dodged it with ease, but now had her back to the crowd of onlookers.

Jack then biotically lifted the crate again and then threw it towards Shepard and the crowd with an audible grunt. The group of students gasped, and Samantha noticed that Dr. T'Soni flared her own biotics, but didn't use them. Quickly looking back at Shepard who had dodged out of the way; her left arm was angled backwards, fully flared with her biotics and the crate came to a stop in midair a few feet in front of the first row of students. Shepard let it hang there for a moment before she used her right hand to throw a shockwave at Jack. A split second later, she threw the crate to the other side of Jack.

Jack had barely dodged the shockwave when she then ducked to avoid the crate. In the time it took her to do both actions, Shepard dematerialized, a stream of blue shooting across the open shuttle bay floor towards Jack. _Is that a biotic charge? _Samantha wondered.

Shepard reappeared behind Jack in midair, looking as if her feet were planted on the crate that was still flying, suspended in flight. She pushed off of it as Jack was in the middle of turning around and then tackled Jack, forcing her to the floor. Shepard rode her to the floor, landing with her knees on either side of Jack's waist and hands wrapped around her wrists.

Jack let out a painful grunt. "Holy shit, Shepard. Owe!" Jack said, moving her head from left to right.

Shepard released Jack's wrists, and sat up, sitting on Jack's pelvis. "Looks like I win, sweet cheeks."

"Yeah, whatever. Just stop fucking calling me that!" Jack spat, moving her hips, forcing Shepard to fall to the side.

The students erupted in cheers. Dr. T'Soni looked extremely impressed, and Garrus looked as if he was holding onto a snide comment.

Shepard stood, and offered a hand to Jack to help her up. Jack took it, and once she was standing she punched Shepard in the shoulder. "Yeah, yeah," Jack said, waiving off the crowds cheering. "I would have creamed your ass had I not been so worried about scuffing your damn ship."

"Mhmm, ri-ight. Because I couldn't possibly win on pure talent," Shepard laughed.

Samantha blinked and watched the reaction of the crowd, still slightly confused as to what Shepard had done to win the fight. But she could feel herself smiling. It had been invigorating to watch to two biotic women fight. It was almost like a dance; a very strategic dance with bluish purple lighting.

She let herself stare at Shepard's now sweaty body out of the corner of her eye. _Everyone else is, so why can't I?_ she justifiably thought to herself. Shepard smiled, tugging the bottom of her shirt up with both her hands. She pulled up her shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from her face. Samantha subconsciously bit her lower lip as she saw the gentle ripple of Shepard's abs glisten with sweat as she breathed. She saw the scars that she'd seen a few nights prior, when she had put Shepard to bed. She then brought her right hand up to her mouth, her left arm still crossed over her stomach, holding her right elbow. She used her hand to shield the smile she couldn't stifle.

* * *

The air rushed through her hair as Shepard biotically charged the crate. The move worked theoretically in her head, but wasn't sure if she'd stop in time or if she'd go barreling through the crate. Luckily, her feet made contact and she stopped her forward motion. Everything around her seemed to be moving impossibly slow, even Jack's reactive movement. Jack had barely turned forty-five degrees when Shepard crouched down on the moving crate and then pushed off, towards Jack.

Her vision finally caught up with the world as she made a grab for Jack's arms and forced her back. Jack let out a yelp as she fell to the floor. Shepard did what she could to slow the fall, so that Jack wouldn't hit her head, and put her knees on either side of Jack's waist. Her knees hit first, sending a searing pain through her thighs. She then braced Jack's upper body by pulling ever-so-slightly on Jack's arms. Jack's head still hit the shuttle bay floor, but it was at much less of an impact than it would have been had Shepard done nothing.

"Fuck," Jack breathed as she opened her eyes after making contact with the floor.

Shepard could only grin at her. Shepard had thought about letting Jack win, simply out of pride, but she had also wanted to win. With how James had acted during the mission to Palaven, and Grissom, she wanted to show him that she could best the best biotic in the galaxy.

"Holy shit, Shepard. Owe!" Jack said, moving her head from left to right.

Shepard released Jack's wrists, and sat up, sitting on Jack's pelvis. "Looks like I win, sweet cheeks," she said, making sure she was loud enough for the entire shuttle bay to hear.

"Yeah, whatever. Just stop fucking calling me that!" Jack spat, moving her hips. Shepard let the movement push her off of Jack as she fell to the side, letting herself take in a few heavy breaths. She spread her arms out on the shuttle bay's cool floor. She'd probably pushed it too hard, just getting back from a mission and all. But she'd tested using two biotic powers while they were fighting the collectors and hadn't had the chance to test it out again until now. It was good to know that she could still do it. It was harder to do in armor, but she was working on it.

The students had already erupted in cheers, vocalizing their disbelief and wonderment for how the fight had turned out. Shepard let herself smile again as she sat up. She stood first, ignoring the pain from her knees, and then offered a hand to Jack.

Jack took the hand and stood, then punched Shepard hard in the shoulder. Shepard figured she did it because of the smile that was plastered to her own face. "Yeah, yeah," Jack said, waiving towards the loud crowd in front of them. "I would have creamed your ass had I not been so worried about scuffing your damn ship."

"Mhmm, ri-ight. Because I couldn't possibly win on pure talent," Shepard laughed.

"Ha! In your dreams!"

"Can't you just gracefully admit defeat like the rest of us, Jack?" Shepard teased, gently pushing Jack's shoulder with her hand.

Jack shrugged. "If I did that, I'd sound like a pussy."

Shepard shook her head, letting herself continue to smile. She couldn't help herself; she was surrounded by many of the people that she cared about most. She knew that Joker was watching from the cockpit, so in spirit, he was here too. Had Tali, Grunt, Wrex, Samara, Thane, Kasumi, and Ashley been here, she would have been smiling from ear to ear. But as it was, she was happy. Everyone around her was happy and having a good time. She hadn't been around this much positive energy since taking down the collector base and making it out with everyone intact, including Legion. That had been one hell of a party—especially when she had read the riot act to the Illusive Man and the entire crew celebrated being separated from Cerberus.

It was moments like this that the voice in her head was at its quietest. These were the moments that she preferred. Moments like this were the only thing that had kept her sane through all of the things that she'd been through during her military career. So long as she had things like this to look forward to, she knew that she could make it out of anything.

She looked up, noticing that Samantha was looking at her, admittedly, along with the majority of the students. Shepard had been glad that she'd stayed to watch. She had wanted Samantha to see that she wasn't just a ticking time bomb of hysterics and emotional distance. She didn't know why she cared so much what the witty but still seemingly shy Specialist thought of her, but she had subconsciously wanted to impress her, too. She noticed that most of their interactions started with Samantha blushing, which had confused her until now, chalking it up to simply nervousness for being around her Commanding Officer—combined with memories of their first encounter. She didn't realize that it might be something more until she saw Samantha shoulder check herself on the elevator shaft when walking away from the mess hall earlier in the day when she had distributed the energy bars amongst the students.

That, combined with the witty comment she'd made towards Vega before the fight had confirmed a thought that she'd hadn't considered until tonight. _There's no way she can be that nerdy and be completely straight,_ she thought as she continued to smile. Until now she had considered that she had been bisexual, given how friendly she was with everyone. She didn't know why now knowing that made her more interested in Samantha, it hadn't stopped her from falling for Ashley.

She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple. Noticing that Samantha was still casually looking, she flexed her abs, just slightly, and used both hands to pull up the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face. She stayed like that, longer than she knew she needed to, but wanted to see the effect it had on ever flustered Specialist. When she brought her shirt down, she glanced at Samantha; she had brought her right hand up to her mouth, her forefinger curled in front of her lips while the rest of the fingers fell in a loose fist. She was only looking at her out of the corner of her eye, but Shepard could tell that Samantha was noticeably trying to hide a smile.

Shepard repositioned her shirt, making sure all her midriff was covered again, and then she started walking towards the crowd of students. She knew that taunting Samantha was probably slightly cruel, considering she didn't know how she felt about the honey skinned Specialist or if she even wanted to risk letting herself feel anything more than friendship for her. She still was holding onto the idea that Ashley might return her affection someday. But it was harmless teasing. Harmless flirting, like when she'd asked her to stay when she'd tried to board the elevator. It was better than dwelling on the fact that Samantha had seen her at her absolute worst.

Shepard looked up at the crowd as she came closer, noticing that Liara looked rather impressed from how the fight had turned out, and Garrus looked bemused as only he could. Jack had donned her coat again and was surrounded by a group of her students, going over the particulars of the fight. Shepard avoided looking at Dr. Chakwas; she really didn't want to remind her that she had promised she would come and see her when this was all said and done. James looked almost broody as he leaned against the calibration table. Not wanting to deal with whatever his problem was, she turned towards Samantha and Steve.

It might have been the affects of adrenaline in her system, or it might have been the sheer fact that Shepard was the happiest she'd been since leaving Earth, but she wasn't sure why she wanted to go and gauge what Samantha thought of the display. Maybe a small part of her was admitting that she might actually like the witty, honey skinned Comm. Specialist. Not wanting to be too obvious about her intentions she walked up, stopping closer to Samantha than to Steve, but spoke to Steve first. "So—did that turn out how you expected, Cortez?"

Steve looked slightly pained, looking back at the now broken crate on the shuttle bay floor. "I never doubted you, Commander. I just wish it wasn't at the expense of the back thruster parts."

Shepard grimaced, putting a nervous hand on the back of her neck. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"But that was some damn smart repositioning, if I say so myself. She never saw you coming until it was too late!" Steve said, grinning in admiration.

Shepard moved her hand down, letting herself grin. "I do what I can." She glanced as Samantha, who had brought her hand down and had both arms crossed over her stomach, casually leaning against the requisitions table. "And what about you, Traynor? Enjoy the show?" Before she could stop herself, she put too much of an inflection on the word show, accompanied by a suggestive eyebrow raise, which made it seem like she was referring to herself and not the actual fight.

Thankfully, Samantha didn't seem to notice. She dropped her hands to her sides and stood up straight. "Absolutely, Commander. I've never seen biotics used in a fight before. It's quite invigorating, really."

"Invigorating, huh? Well, it's good to know that we can put on an entertaining display," Shepard said, shifting her body weight to her right leg so that she was leaning slightly closer to Samantha than to Steve.

"Absolutely. And the way that you strategically attacked was quite fascinating to watch. You must have played a lot of strategy games as a child."

Shepard laughed. "Strategy games? No, I'm afraid not," she admitted.

"Oh. Well, with all your groundside experience, I'm sure you'd be a challenging opponent to beat in a game of chess," Samantha said, seemingly starting to relax in her shoulders. It seemed that the energy in the room was loosening up the ever nervous specialist before her.

Shepard had heard of chess, even seen it played in a few vids. But it was a game that she'd never actually played herself. Before Shepard had the chance to respond, Steve spoke up. "Commander, I think you should check in with Mr. Vega," he motioned towards James with his eyes and an inclination of his head.

Shepard raised an eyebrow and then turned at the waist to look in his direction. James stood, arms crossed, hips leaning against the calibrations table, and a scowl on his face looking towards the empty space of the shuttle bay. "There's always _**one**_ Debby downer," Shepard said, shaking her head. She turned back to Samantha. "We'll have to chat about this "chess" game another time," she smiled, trying to convey that Samantha would have to teach her. Samantha nodded, smiling ever-so-slightly. Shepard nodded and then turned and walked towards James.

James watched her walk up, the scowl on his face unchanging. "Nice moves, Lola."

"What's with the name, Lola?" Shepard asked, coming to a stop in front of him.

He shrugged, the scowl lessening slightly. "Dunno, you just look like a Lola to me. You don't mind, do you?"

It was Shepard's turn to shrug. "Not really. Care if I call you Muscles?"

James let out a single laugh. "Naw—I'm more than just this muscled exterior."

"Fair enough," Shepard responded, crossing her arms over her stomach and shifting her weight to her rear foot, slightly leaning away from James. "So what's with the frown?"

James was quiet for a moment, and then stood upright, uncrossing his arms. He motioned towards the shuttle bay space with his thumb. "Think you can dance and talk at the same time?"

Shepard tilted her head to the side slightly. "Oh, I can dance. But really? I just got done fighting with Jack."

"C'mon. You're mother fucking Commander Shepard. You can't go two in a row? It's not like I have the biotics to worry about."

"Oh, James," Shepard said, adding the slightest touch of sultry to her voice. "I can go all night long."

James gave a dark smirk. "Okay Lola, let's do this."

Still slightly confused as to James' motives, Shepard shrugged, silently agreeing to another brawl. The two of them moved towards the empty shuttle bay floor space. It took a few moments, but the crowd began to hush as they made their way towards the middle of the cleared area. Shepard glanced back, noticing that everyone had their full attention. She had a feeling that this sparing session wasn't going to be a good natured as Jack's had been.

She glanced briefly at Samantha, who looked rather worried. Shepard smiled, moving to remove her tank top. "We might as well give the girls a show, huh Vega?"

James glanced at the crowd of students and shrugged. "Sure, whatever." He peeled off his shirt, getting a few gasps from the female students.

Shepard stole one last glance at Samantha, who looked relatively appalled by the stripping of James' shirt. She smirked to herself, lifting the end of her shirt up and over her head. _Yup… she's definitely a hundred percent lesbian,_ she thought as she threw her sweaty tank top towards the ground by the crowd of students. "Don't let my good looks fool you, Vega. I've gotten my share of scars," she said, fighting the urge to steal another glance at Samantha before the fight started.

James bent his neck to the left and right, allowing the vertebra to crack. "I can see that, Lola," he said, bringing his hands together and popping his knuckles. He put his hands up by his face, defensively.

Shepard brought her hands up, lowering her center slightly as she bent at the knees, moving her feet farther apart. It had been a few years since she'd done actual hand to hand combat training, but it wasn't completely foreign to her. She decided she was going to test him out first and threw a soft left towards his head, followed by a quick right. James deflected them effortlessly with his forearms.

James let out a quick laugh. "You remind me of my old CO," he bobbed on both feet for a moment before he made two immediate jabs to Shepard's face with his left.

Shepard backpedaled to avoid the quick jabs from James. She then took a few quick steps forward, attempting a left uppercut to his chin, missing. "Oh yeah?" She tried again, this time only barely missing her target as James almost miscalculated his block. "And who was that?" she asked, taking a few cautionary steps back.

James didn't pursue her, but stood there, relaxing his form for a moment as he spoke. "Captain Tony. He was a hard ass son of a bitch, but a good leader." He suddenly moved forward with a left jab followed closely by a right. She let him hit her forearms, being slightly tousled around.

Her forearm stung from the impact of James connection. She quickly gathered that this was clearly more than James wanting to spar for fun. "Was?" she prodded, taking a few steps away to avoid being hit again. She needed to get to the bottom of why he his attitude had been so poor on the last few missions, not to mention his response to her and Jack's sparing session.

"Died," he said, taking a step back as he started to circle Shepard. Shepard took the chance to glance at the crowd as she started to turn her back towards them. Everyone was watching intently. The atmosphere in the room had completely changed in the room. No one was smiling anymore. All the students watched with opened mouths, while Shepard's crew had worried complexions written on their faces. Jack was eyeing James, as if she was about to jump in and start pounding on him. Garrus, Dr. Chakwas, and Liara were tentatively watching; all three of them sharing the same concerned expression on their faces. Steven and Samantha stood next to each other, both looking like they were trying to concentrate on what was being said between the two soldiers.

Shepard's view was broken as she circled with James, putting her focus back to him. "He died with most of my squad protecting a civilian colony from a collector attack," he said, a trace of venom in his voice. He suddenly jabbed with his left, which Shepard deflected, but he connected with her chin on the next left jab he made.

Light flashed behind her eyes as she stepped back, raising her arms higher up around her face. _Fuck he hits hard, _she thought, trying to blink out the white dots in her vision. His muscle apparently weren't all for show—they were actually used to deliver mind numbing punches. "And the colony?" she asked, trying to keep him talking to give her a chance to regain her full vision.

"It was either them," he started as he made a few quick steps towards her, trying another left jab to her face that she was thankful she dodged, still slightly dazed. "Or the intel we had on the collectors," he finished his sentence with a hard left that Shepard used both of her arms to block, and then immediately ducked as he threw a wide right over her head. "Intel we could have used to destroy them," his words were becoming angrier, and articulated with heavier punches. He made a jab to her face again, which she narrowly back stepped out of reach from. "I chose the intel," he said, closing the distance between them with one large step, attempting another and uppercut with his right hand.

Shepard could feel the tension radiating from James' body. This was what had been eating away at him. But his punches were getting harder and faster, but sloppier. Before he could make another swing at her face, she took a wide step back, quickly turning about and landing a round house with her right foot square to his chest, trying to force him away from her. He took a few stumbling steps back, putting his hands higher up by his face. She regained her footing, taking one more step away from him. "Sorry, that's a tough call."

They started to circle each other again. Shepard didn't bother trying to gage the room again; she had to pay attention to the angry Lieutenant in front of her. "The best part was, we didn't really need the intel in the end, cause you were out saving the galaxy by taking down the entire collector home world," James said angrily, abruptly stopping his circling of Shepard and went in with a hard double left jab, followed by a left, right, left combination, all aimed at her face.

Shepard blocked each shot, letting him connect with her forearms again, which were starting to sting. James hadn't bothered with putting on his kid gloves; each hit that connected with Shepard's forearms was numbingly painful, sending vibrations throughout her body. "You didn't know. You can't blame yourself, Vega!" She could feel his anger beginning to rub off on her the harder he hit. This was something that he should have told her once they had started working together, not something that he had held onto until now. Was this the reason why he seemingly had a death wish on every mission?

"Who says I'm blaming myself?" James asked sternly, almost yelling.

Shepard used his moment of outright anger to connect with his nose with a left jab, followed by a right uppercut to his chin. "I do!"

James shook his head as his nose started to trickle blood. She'd also broken skin on his chin, a dribble of blood landing on his taught chest. It was a good feeling to know that she could still throw an effective punch. James blinked a few time, and then went in for a left cross that narrowly missed her face. Her cheek was caught with the following right jab. "You a shrink too?"

Shepard blinked, trying to ignore the pain coming from the left side of her face. She faked right and then shot a left jab, barely connecting with his shoulder. "No," she tried again with her left, crossing just under his chin as he back stepped. "But that stunt back on Mars was reckless!" She used her left to make him block and then came in with a right uppercut that cut right under his blocking forearms. She connected hard with his jaw. The hit made her fingers tingle.

James growled, throwing a wild left punch over her head, followed by a crude right uppercut that nicked her jaw as it passed. The motion had made her bite the inside of her lip, and she could taste blood now pooling behind her lip. "SO!" James yelled, still advancing.

She swallowed a mixture of saliva and blood. "So," she said, dodging another wild punch. She attempted to connect to his face again with a left jab, but he weaved to the side, avoiding the hit entirely. "Maybe you don't care if you live or die!"

"Or maybe," he responded immediately with another left jab. Shepard brought her forearms together just in time to block the hit. Her elbows were starting to tingle from the intense impact of his punches. "I'm just willing to do whatever it fucking takes to end this goddamn war!" He took a large step forward, pulling his left arm back behind his waist and came in to try and hit Sheppard in the stomach.

"Maybe you are," she responded, turning to her left, forcing him to miss and then continuing her motion to round house his cheek. Shepard's own anger was slowly starting to boil over. His face was forced to the side, causing him to spit; red tinted saliva flew from his mouth. "But if you're half as good as I think you are we need you alive!"

"What's the good in being alive when all we're doing is running around the galaxy on glorified council errands?! Earth is being torn apart by Reapers as we speak!" He full out yelled as he moved in to try another body shot to her stomach.

Shepard clenched her jaw and dropped her arms, catching his incoming fist in both of her hands. Pain irradiated through her palms and into her forearms, but she used his forward force to pull him in as she turned around, forcing him over her shoulder and flipping him onto the ground. As he hit the ground, she dropped her right knee to his chest, pinning him to the ground as she held his arm at a painful angle. "Don't you dare, for one second, think that there isn't a moment that goes by that I don't think about Earth!" she yelled down at him. "There isn't a day that goes by that the screams of the people as we left Vancouver don't resonate in my head! I'm out here playing politician because I have to!" She released his arm, glaring down at him.

James made a vicious guttural growl as he grabbed Shepard's knee and pushed her off of his chest. Shepard tried to stand, but as she was trying to catch her balance, James swung his legs under her, catching both of her feet and sending her back to the ground, painfully landing on her tailbone.

Suddenly, Shepard saw the rubble of Elysium around her. She'd been pulled out of her crow's nest and thrown to the ground, three stories down. As she tried to catch her breath, a large Batarian walked into her line of sight, glaring down at her; her sniper rifle landing in the dirt some ten feet away.

Even though there was a burning in her lungs from the air being forced out, she let out a low, guttural animalistic snarl, filled with rage. She used her biotics to help herself launch herself back up with her hands, jumping up into a standing position. Before the batarian had a chance to react, she flared her biotics, grabbing hold of the slavers shirt and throwing him as far as her biotics would let her. Using a biotic charge, she caught up with his flying body before it made contact with the ground. Bringing both fists together, she hit the center of his chest, forcing his body to the ground with a resonating thud as he landed in the dirt on his back.

She moved down, more quickly than she would have had she not had her biotics flared. She straddled the batarian's chest and reared her right fist with a growl, pouring all of her biotic energy into her hand.

James' face abruptly came back into her view as she began to throw her fist down. With a moment of confusion, Shepard altered the trajectory of her first, and missed James' face. Her hand made contact with the shuttle bay floor, not a half inch away from James's ear. Her fist forced the metal of the floor to give an inch or two with an awful bending metal sound.

Shepard couldn't help but blink. Her rapid blinking didn't clear her mind of what had just happened. She knew she wasn't on Elysium. She knew that she was on the Normandy. She knew that she wasn't fighting a batarian, but James. She looked down at her fist, then to James' very surprised face. She took a moment, and took in a few short breaths before abruptly standing. She took a few steps away from James, looking at her hand again, noticing that there was blood now coming from her knuckles. She felt sweat trickle down her spine and between her breasts. She looked back to where she had made contact with the floor and saw the dent she'd made. James slowly started to sit up.

_What the fuck was that?!_ she thought, absolutely mortified at what she'd done. She looked up and felt her heart stop for a moment; she had forgotten than there had been a crowd of people watching. Every single person, crewmate and student alike, stood there with gapping mouths, making no sound or motion. They all looked at her, utter confusion written over their faces.

Shepard's heartbeat quickened as she felt sweat trickle down the sides of her face, indicating that she was starting to panic. She looked up, looking at the face of Samantha: she, thankfully, only looked perplexed, looking from Shepard to James, who was now attempting to stand. Shepard looked from Samantha to the students, most of whom looked outright frightened.

Her heartbeat quickened still. She had to get out of here. She couldn't handle the look on everyone's faces. She abruptly started walking, only stopping to pick up her discarded tank top and wrapping it around her bleeding knuckles.

She tore the hair tie out of her hair and extended a hurried hand to the student who had lent it to her. The student apprehensively put her hands out to catch it as Shepard released it. She nodded to her and then started walking again. The students parted, making room for her to get to the elevator. Even Dr. Chakwas, Jack, and Garrus moved out of the way. Liara, however, made a grab for Shepard's arm. "Jane," she said softly.

Shepard violently pulled her arm away from Liara, forcing herself past her; barely touching her shoulder as she went. She punched the holo to summon the elevator. As the doors slid open, James yelled, "Lola!"

She stepped into the elevator and turned around, looking at James who had walked forward and was a few feet in front of the crowd of students. He nodded to her: all the anger had left his expression. The look in his eyes was that of respect—the look she'd seen in his eyes the first day she'd met him back in Vancouver. "Thank you. I really needed that," he said, sincerity ringing in his voice.

Shepard clenched her jaw, making distant eye contact with him. She gave a curt nod and the elevator doors shut.

* * *

**A/N:** Eh? Eh? How was that? I feel like the fight scene that is basically from the cut scene was a little technical and not so fun to read, but I'm unsure how to correct it to be more engaging. Any suggestions on that front are more than welcome!

I'm sorry for the length. Originally, a lot more was going to happen in this chapter, but I let it take it where it wanted to go and this is what happened. So the next chapter will basically be the second part to this chapter.

On another, completely different note: I love Jack. She's always been one of my favorites and was super bummed out that she couldn't join your team again in ME3. My justification for the two being so close, aside from both being powerful adepts, is the fact that most paragon choices with other members of your team tend to be more Shepard being a smart ass. Taking that personality type and melding it with my version of Shepard seemed to be appropriate. And I guess I'm a little jaded that Jack wasn't a femshep romance option. So—next best thing, be her best friend.

As always—review! It always brings a smile to my face.


	6. Post-Traumatic What What?

**A/N**: I've taken large artistic liberties as I create Shepard's back story. Some of it may not follow completely in line with what the game set out, but I couldn't help myself. I was that kid in grade school who couldn't color inside the lines, I suppose.

Also, a quick note to say that I've been mentioning the wrong observation deck this entire time; all scenes that I mention take place in the Port observation deck ACTUALLY take place in the starboard side. I played the game a little this last week and actually went into the rooms to look at the difference. I'll be going back through and fixing that. My apologies.

* * *

**Post-Traumatic What What?  
**_fanfic by MistressNoriko_

Shepard put her back to the wall opposite of Jack's old cot; she let her body slide down into a sitting position on the floor to the left of the table. The friction of her bare skin on the cold metal of the wall hurt, but not nearly as badly as the rest of her body ached. Anyone who walked by wouldn't see her, and that was precisely why she'd gone here instead of going to her cabin. She took in quick, shaky breaths, proof that she'd over exerted herself—not that the congealing sweat all over her body wasn't proof enough. Everything hurt; from her knees to her arms, everything screamed in pain. That last attack she'd done on James had emptied what little store of adrenaline her body had left to keep the pain at bay, but it all now surfaced.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, pinning her arms as she brought her hands to her face, her right hand still wrapped in her now bloodied tank top. _You have to get a hold of yourself. You're on the Normandy. Elysium was twelve years ago,_ she thought to herself as she attempted to regulate her breathing. She felt hot tears starting to well in her eyes as she began to rock back and forth.

The feeling in the pit of her stomach was worse than any of the guilt she felt after arguing with herself. She could have killed James, like she had done to that Batarian on Elysium. Her punch had gone straight through his head, shattering his skull and liquefying his brain—killing him instantly. At that point in her military career, she was still learning how to really use her biotics. On the farm she grew up on at Mindoir, she had used them to lift things for her father, or to pull small things off of high shelves for her mother. But when she entered the military, they didn't really know what to do with her, and her parents were gone, no longer alive to provide gentle words of encouragement. The Alliance hadn't wanted to send her to jump zero, or "brain camp," for the simple reason that her marksman scores were so high; so they kept her in infantry, letting her figure her biotics on her own as she went. That Batarian had been the first living being she'd killed with her biotics. He hadn't been the last one that day, though; he was the first of around a hundred Batarians and other raced pirates, including other humans, that had invaded Elysium that Shepard had personally killed.

Shepard started to shiver, letting hot tears run down her face and into her cupping hands that were over her eyes. Her exposed torso was covered in cool sweat that was beginning to congeal as she leaned against the cold wall. The feeling of fear towards her biotics slowly crept back into her memory. Once the backup fleets finally stormed Elysium, Shepard had been carted off to a medical tent where she had sat, shivering, covered in blood of multiple races. The feeling she got when she flared her biotics had been such a power rush, taking over every facet of her brain. But it scared her. She hadn't understood it at the time, and after the adrenaline had left her system, she started to go into shock from over exertion and guilt for taking so many lives; lives taken with the power that she barely understood.

In that moment, Shepard was mentally simultaneously in the Normandy's engineering deck and in that med bay on Elysium. The emotions that ran through her mind were identical for a brief moment before she started to slap her cheeks with both hands. _You're on the Normandy, goddammit! You. Are. On. The. Normandy! There are no batarians… that was James that you almost killed! Snap out of it!_

She could hear herself crying but couldn't stop herself. It wasn't the first time she'd had a flash back of the blitz. In fact, she'd been put on medical leave for 11 months after the battle on Elysium. She had gone through intensive therapy while she trained with a group of Asari matriarchs to hone her biotic skills. After being released and deemed fit for duty, she joined the N7 team. It was fairly often that during intense firefights, she'd start having flashbacks now and again. Only after a few emotionally tasking missions did her Commanding Officer teach her a trick that had gotten him through his own tough memories. Captain Joshua Beck had taught her the counting and breathing method she now so often relied on in stressful situations.

Shepard's shoulders shook as she cried. Her entire body was shaking, cold as the sweat turned to frigid beads of water on her skin. She'd never had a flashback in the confines of her own ship while conscious. Every time it had happened she'd always been in an intense firefight on the ground or while she slept. She'd never once hurt one of her own team members before. _What the hell is happening to me,_ she thought, trying to rub her eyes to get the tears to stop.

_Reapers, Jane. That's what's happening._

Shepard leaned her head back, forcefully making contact with the wall behind her. _Fuck… I don't need you right now!_

_Really? Who else is supposed to keep you in check?_

"NO!" She yelled, bringing taught hands up to her face, tugging the skin of her cheeks as she slowly moved her hands down, fingers slightly digging in. "You're not real," she whispered to herself.

_Hardly, Jane. I'm as real as you. If you'd just listen to me, you would have never been in this situation._

_You were quiet! For once, you were silent, and I was happy!_ she mentally yelled at her imaginary counterpart. _We were having fun! We were letting loose for the first time since the goddamned reapers hit Earth!_

_You let yourself get distracted! You have bigger things to worry about than troop morale! You have to find a way to destroy the reapers! To save all life as we know it!_

_Shut up! Shut up! I can't fucking do this alone! I need a team—and to have a team there needs to be a good morale or people die!_

_It's war, Jane. People are going to die!_

"SHUT UP!" she yelled, punching the floor with both of her hands. Pain seared through her right hand, the one she'd bloodied when she avoided hitting James, and the one she'd bloodied after denting the wall outside her quarters. Pain traveled up both arms, radiating in her elbows. She punched again with her left hand, trying to force out the voice in her head.

She sat there for a few moments, and there was nothing. Her head was silent. The tears finally stopped as she let out a slow breath. She started to simply count out loud, just over a whisper. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her whispered counting and systematic breathing.

She didn't know how long she had been down there when she heard Jack's familiar voice over the hum of the drive core. "Thought I'd find you here, Shepard."

Shepard abruptly stopped counting as she brought her right hand up to her face, using the least bloodied part of the tank top that was still wrapped around her hand to wipe away what evidence she could of her since dried tears.

"Shi-it, you look like hell," Jack's voiced sounded quietly as Shepard spent more time than she needed to, trying to rub all the evidence out of her eyes that she had been crying.

Shepard heard the creak of the cot, assuming Jack had sat down across from her. Shepard didn't move to look at her immediately. She rubbed her eyes for a moment longer, finally dragging her hand down her face as she leaned her head back on the wall again.

Jack let Shepard be for a few moments, before Shepard heard her rummage into her pockets. "Here, drink this. You need the calories."

Shepard moved her head slightly forward, eyeing the bottle as she extended her hand out to grab it from Jack's leaning posture. "What is it?" she asked, her voice sounding more gruff than she had expected.

"Just some juice," Jack said. She moved from sitting on the cot to sitting on the floor in front of it, her legs coming to the left side of Shepard's body. "Sanders made it pretty hard for me to smuggle booze aboard Grissom, or I'd be handing you a flask of that Volus swill we used to love drinking down here."

Shepard let out a heavy sigh, kicking her legs out to be parallel to Jack's. "Sounds like your liver should be more grateful to Sanders," Shepard said, pulling the cap off of the juice and taking a long drink. It was an artificial juice that tried to imitate the taste of strawberries and bananas. Shepard had a moment of missing life of Mindoir, where the produce was fresh and had the best juices. The juice she drank left a filmy residue in her mouth.

"Alright, Shepard—be straight with me for a second: What the fuck was that all about?" Jack finally said after letting Shepard drink a few more mouthfuls of the unsatisfying juice.

Shepard still didn't look at Jack… she couldn't bring herself to see the look she knew was on Jack's face. She was worried; it radiated in her voice. "What was what about?" she deflected, leaning her head back again, slightly closing her eyes.

"Don't fuck with me, Shepard," she said. Shepard heard her pull her legs up and heard the cot squeal from the movement of her leaning forward. Shepard opened a listless eye and glanced at her. Jack had brought her knees up, feet about shoulder width apart and her arms resting up on her knees. She was leaning forward, looking at Shepard with a scowl. "You looked like you were about ready to kill that meathead," she continued. "Don't get me wrong, I would have done the same, but it seemed pretty drastic for you."

Shepard let out another sigh and then took another swig of the juice. "I don't know, Jack."

Jack raised an eyebrow at her, studying her face. "Shit—I never thought I'd be saying this to you, but cheer up, man. You being so down is unnerving as fuck. I'm the broody hull rat, remember?"

"Sorry," was all Shepard responded with. Her body was exhausted. Her muscles were starting to relax again as her head pounded with a headache—punishment for over using her biotics. Her back was starting to feel clammy against the metal wall behind her.

"Don't apologize to me, Shepard," Jack said, moving across the floor to sit next to her. She sat crisscrossed to Shepard's left, facing her, her back leaning on the leg of a small table covered by boxes. She was close enough that she could reach out and touch, or punch, Shepard if she felt like it. "Seriously though… what happened back there?" she asked softly.

Shepard chewed on her thoughts for a long moment, not sure how to breach the subject. She noticed the swelling in her lower lip from the hit she took from Vega. It probably wasn't noticeable to anyone looking at her, but it was painful. Jack's expression didn't change. Finally, Shepard said, "Keep this between us, ok?"

"Sure. Who the hell would I rat you out to?" Jack said with a smirk, trying to break the tension.

Shepard took another long moment, trying to figure out what to say. "Do you… do you sometimes have arguments with yourself?" It wasn't what Jack had asked, but she wanted to gauge Jack on it regardless. She wasn't quite ready to open up about the moment in the shuttle bay that Jack was prodding about.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Why?"

"I mean," she started, trying to use her hands to help her think, not moving them in any specific motion, but just small movements as she spoke. "Do you argue with yourself in your head? And not the subconscious argument—like there is another person there, telling you how you need to change what you're doing?

"Ah snap," Jack laughed, lightly hitting Shepard on the arm. "Has the Commander finally gone crazy like the rest of us?"

Shepard closed her eyes. _This was a bad idea…_she thought, clenching her jaw. "That's not what I meant, Jack."

Jack scoffed. "What, so you lost your shit on that meathead because a voice told you to or something?"

"What?!" Shepard's eye shot open, looking worriedly at Jack. "No! He…" she started. She clenched her jaw again; she didn't want to talk about her flash back, but she knew she needed to. Talk therapy had been one of the only effective methods of coping while she was going through therapy on the Citadel after the blitz. She closed her eyes and balled her fists, crunching the now empty bottle of juice. "He was a Batarian."

"What?"

Shepard let out a frustrated sigh, pulling her head forward from the wall. She looked Jack square in the eyes. "James… he was a goddamned Batarian, Jack. He swiped my legs out from under me and when I hit the ground… It was like I was back on Elysium during the Blitz again, fighting a Batarian with my biotics for the first time."

Jack opened her mouth slightly and blinked, letting Shepard's words sink in. She then let out a low whistle. "Shit… normally I'd say that we need to take a couple of drinks. But if that's what happened, then fuck, you better be staying away from the alcohol."

Shepard let herself laugh darkly. "If only alcoholism solved problems," she said, resting her head back on the wall again.

"Shit, Shepard, you gotta get help," Jack said in all seriousness.

Shepard shook her head, closing her eyes in frustration. "I don't have time for therapy, Jack. I have to find a way to save life as we know it."

"Well, you won't do anyone a damn bit of good if you're in a constant state of delusion!" Jack retorted. "That's my fucking job, remember. You're the calm, cool, collected Commander Fucking Shepard. You don't _**lose**_ it."

"I know," she responded softly.

"So how'd you cope with it before?" Jack inquired, trying to find a resolution.

"Well," Shepard thought, repositioning herself so that her back wasn't so stiff against the wall, bringing her right leg up to rest her arm on her knee, but partly to bring warmth to her cold exposed torso. "Back when I was hunting down Saren, I talked to Ashley all of the time. When we were going after the collectors, well… I talked to you."

Jack moved her head back as she narrowed her eyes. "I think I'd remember you telling me about people randomly transforming into Batarians before your eyes as you fought."

Shepard let out a breath through her nose, noticing that her cheek and chin were starting to ache, probably forming a bruise from where James had connected. "I never actually talk about the shit I see, Jack. People would think I was crazy and I'd probably be locked up somewhere. But just talking to people… getting my mind off of missions and violence… that's what helps."

"Gotcha," Jack said, nodding her head. "We did have some fun times down here, didn't we?"

Shepard finally let herself smile, even if it was only for a second. "Yeah,"

"Alright, so you talked to the Alliance twig, and me. Who do you talk to now?"

Shepard shrugged. "No one, really. With you, we're like siblings. We tell each other all kinds of crazy stuff, whether random, psychotic in your case, or emotional. With Ash… I trusted Ash with everything I had. She always had some damn poem to recite for every occasion. I… I loved her. I still do, I suppose," she shrugged again. "Even though she never saw me that way, she was still there for me, no matter what—even after the tenth time I told her how I felt about her."

"Yeah," Jack chimed, "I remember you pinning on about her after the sixth shot of Turian whiskey when we made it back from Horizon."

Shepard laughed, recalling the drunken night. It had still been early on in the whole collector mission, and she and Jack weren't close yet. But after the events on Horizon, Shepard had decided to start drinking with Garrus in the port side observatory, when it still had the fully stocked bar in it (now it simply had tame beers and wines, nothing hard). Jack had come in, noticing that there was booze aplenty and had decided to listen in as she shot back a few drinks with the two teammates. Shepard had gone on and on, for what had seemed like hours, about how much she wished she could have convinced Ashley to come with them. How she was sure that _**this**_ time, she'd finally convince her that she was as deeply in love with Shepard, as she was with her and how amazing she thought the sex would be. Jack had remembered how surprised Garrus had been throughout the whole drunken conversation. He had apparently thought that Shepard was into him, up until that night. As Shepard was starting to pass out, she leaned against Jack, closing her eyes as her head rested on her shoulder. Jack made some comment to Garrus about how Shepard was just a goody-two-shoe who was nice to everyone, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was as gay as they came. Garrus eventually carried Shepard to her cabin, Jack hitting the buttons along the way.

Shepard continued to laugh, "God I was a mess that night."

"Shit, you were a mess the next morning! You looked deader than a friggin' husk as you tried to eat your damn cereal," Jack said, returning the laughter. "Do you remember asking everyone to speak quieter and to not move so fast around you?"

They both laughed, releasing all the tension out of the small alcove. "And the look on Mordin's face when he realized what had happened. I don't think I've ever heard him sing so loudly and so off key in my life."

"And the dance!" Jack said, clutching her stomach as she leaned to the side, tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes from the constant laughing. "The way he practically fluttered around you until you finally lost it into your bowl."

What they were saying wasn't all that funny, but given the situation, Shepard welcomed the uncontrollable laughter to the alternative of crying. They continued laughing, unable to stop for some time. They'd try to stop laughing and then they'd look at each other just right, and the laughing would start in full force again. Finally after about two or so minutes of laughter, as she caught her breath Shepard put her hand on Jack's leg. "Thanks, Jack," she said, one final laugh escaping her throat. "I needed that."

Jack grinned, squeezing Shepard's hand in hers for a brief moment, and then letting go. She'd never really been one for physical contact, but that fact that she'd returned the gestured meant that Jack really did love Shepard, in her own, violent, psychotic sibling kind of way. "Anytime."

Shepard moved her hand from Jack's leg, and tilted her head onto her left shoulder, looking at Jack. "I wish you could stay on the Normandy. God knows I could use you around here."

Jack gave a sad smirk. "Me too… But those kids need me, Shepard."

"I know they do. They'd be completely lost in this war without you," Shepard said, returning a somber smile. "I know they didn't like it—but they'll be safest as support."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I know. And thanks for that, by the way."

They shared a few moments of silence, looking around the small alcove that Jack used to call her quarters. There were so many good memories here.

"Damn, Shepard, you're seriously the master of deflection!" Jack said, kicking out her leg to make gentle contact with Shepard's left knee.

"What?!" she asked, wincing; Jack hadn't kicked her hard, but her knees still stung from her collision with the shuttle bay floor.

"We were trying to figure out who you could talk to," Jack said, giving Shepard a look that her mother had notoriously used on her when she was trying to make her feel guilty growing up.

"Hey—you were the one who brought up my drunken antics."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved off. "But seriously, who can you talk to around here?"

Shepard thought for a moment. Maybe she could talk to Liara—but that was no good. She still had the feeling that Liara had unrequited affections towards her. She'd never understood why Shepard hadn't wanted to be with her. Liara's fascination with the prothean beacon information embedded in her memory had been a huge turn off when they'd met. That mixed with her outward forwardness about how she thought they should be together had been too much for Shepard. And Liara just wasn't as easy to talk to as Ash had been. She checked Liara off of the list.

_What about Garrus?_ she thought. She didn't really have a reason as to why she didn't talk to him. He was the guy she'd go to and swap war stories with. They were, as they say, bros. She couldn't see just lounging around in the observation deck listening to one another talk about whatever whimsy they were thinking of or emotional struggle they were going through. She checked Garrus off of the list.

She immediately checked Dr. Chakwas off the list as she floated into her mind. She knew that she wasn't a physiatrist, but she had had her fill of medical professionals while in therapy on the Citadel. Joker was constantly flying the Normandy, so he was an automatic no.

"What about that British chick?" Jack suggested.

"British chick?" Shepard asked. "You mean Samantha?"

"I don't fucking know her name—the one that was next to your shuttle pilot in the shuttle bay. She seemed to fancy talking to you," she responded playfully.

Shepard tilted her head to the side, chewing on the thought. _I _**do**_ enjoy talking with her when she's around . . ._ she thought. _But do I really want her to be subjected to my crazy emotional pendulum? She deserves someone who's stable…_

_It's not like having routine conversation with her means you're suddenly in a relationship with her…_

_But I feel that if I get to know her… I'll want to be with her. And she's probably not even single anyway. And what about Ash? I still love her… why I am even thinking of the Specialist that way? _"Shit, Jack, I don—"

Shepard was interrupted by the lights suddenly dimming substantially and then slowly coming back up to full power. The drive core also looked like it had powered down for a moment before kicking back in. Joker's voice blared over the intercom, echoing loudly in the metal confines of the alcove they were in. "Commander, EDI just went off line!"

Shepard looked around anxiously. "What do you mean "offline"?"

"I dunno, she's not responding," he responded frantically. "I can't access the AI core diagnostics. You better get to deck three."

"Fuck," Shepard said as she jumped up to her feet. _The mech's body is in there,_ she thought, panic reawakening her muscles as she struggled with her crumpled tank top, trying to get it over her head. All of her muscles still hurt, and not to mention her hands were beginning to become extremely stiff from all the floor punching she'd done within the last hour or so.

Jack jumped up with her, both of them running towards the stairs together.

Shepard was worried about what could possibly be going on with EDI, or the potential that the Cerberus mech had somehow rebooted. But a small part of her dreaded the fact that the AI core was in the back of the med bay. It meant she was probably going to have to confront Dr. Chakwas.

* * *

Samantha's mouth was still hanging slightly ajar when Shepard was cut from view as the elevator doors slid shut. She immediately looked to Steve, and they shared perplexed expressions. She still couldn't quite grasp what had just happened. Whatever James' reason for wanting to fight with Shepard, Samantha was almost positive that this wasn't what he'd been expecting.

She glanced at him as he leaned on the opposite side of the requisitions table. He had his hand up on his jaw rubbing his chin. He'd retrieved his shirt and had apparently used it to wipe the blood from his nose.

Samantha wanted to yell at him, for getting so personal and angry during something that was meant to be entertaining and a good time—but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She herself was still feeling the whiplash effect on the sudden change in mood that had occurred in the shuttle bay. One moment, everything was fine and fun; Shepard even came up to her to talk and seemed more interested than usual. But the things that James had been yelling about, about running around the galaxy on glorified errands for the council, rang true to Samantha; and she was sure it touched on a nerve of every crew member in the shuttle bay. What were they really accomplishing out here that was going to help them back on Earth? She knew what they were doing would eventually help Earth, but would there be an Earth to save by the time they accomplished everything?

Some of the students started nervously whispering amongst themselves. Dr. T'Soni and Dr. Chakwas were sharing a worried look. Garrus, for once, looked confused and deep in thought. Jack, however, simply started braking orders at her students. "Alright—that's enough excitement for one day. Everyone to the starboard observatory, pronto! If I find anyone wondering about the ship, aside from a bathroom run, you'll be doing a wall squats until we dock at the Citadel!"

The students didn't bother complaining. They were just as confused as Samantha was. The things that James had yelled about to Shepard were probably what the crew had already been thinking; but the war efforts were new knowledge to the students. The students continued quietly talking amongst themselves, queuing up to load the elevator. It came back rather quickly, allowing the first set of students to board. As they boarded, Jack slowly started walking backwards, towards the open space of the shuttle bay. By the time the elevator came back and the final students boarded, Jack was just a few feet away from James, who had been curiously watching her approach.

As soon as the elevator doors closed for the final time, Jack spun around and punched James' square in the nose. "What the fuck was that, you thick headed meatstick?!" She yelled at him, continuing to invade his space.

Garrus ran up and grabbed Jack from behind as she tried to swing at James again, who had gone down to one knee with a vulgar grunt of protest, holding his nose.

"Cool it, Zero," Garrus said, lifting Jack away from James. "We've had enough for one day."

"Lemme go, Archangel!" She yelled, kicking out as Garrus carried her a few feet away.

"Enough! All of you," Dr. T'Soni yelled, a small flare of her biotic emanating from her fists.

Samantha and Steve both went into attention, standing from their leaning positions and bringing their hands to their sides. Samantha had an urge to go into a full falute, but noticed that Steve didn't, so she remained still. Dr. T'Soni yelled with an air of authority that neither of them had heard from her before. Samantha was also having a hard time, keeping track of the different names that Garrus and Jack were using. Steve looked equally confused, also not being a part of the previous Normandy team.

Samantha glanced at Dr. Chakwas, who looked extremely displeased, as she walked up to James who was still crouched on the floor cupping his nose.

Garrus finally let go of Jack, but kept his hands at the ready to grab her in case she tried to go for James again. Dr. T'Soni put a delicate hand to her forehead, looking off into the distance in the shuttle bay.

Samantha wanted to say something, but didn't feel that anything that she had to say would ease the tense feeling emanating around her; so she quietly stood next to Steve, feeling like they were small children in school, caught in the crossfire of a teacher scolding another student.

Dr. Chakwas roughly pulled James to his feet. He came up, staggering only slightly. With her activated omni-tool, she scanned his face. Her frown deepened as she moved the omni-tool away. "This will hurt," was all she said, bringing her hand up to James' nose and shooing his hands gently out of the way. She took hold of the bridge of his nose, and wrenched it to the side, setting it back in place.

Samantha and Steven both cringed, as more blood started to surge from James' nose. Samantha's stomach gave a jolt, threatening to revolt against the amount of blood that was now gushing from James' face. She glanced at Jack, trying to force her stomach to not react too violently; Jack was sneering, knowing that whatever she'd done had been the reason his nose had broken. She shook her head and then said, "I'm going to go find Shepard. If I see this guy anywhere—"

"Yeah, yeah we know, Zero," Garrus said, cutting her off as she moved to walk away.

Jack threw up her middle finger on her right hand as she walked away. The elevator doors opened almost immediately and she walked in, looking back out and shaking her head as the doors closed.

Dr. T'Soni and Garrus shared a concerned look.

"Fuck!" James finally moaned, bringing his shirt up to his face. "Isn't there a better way of doing that?"

"I could very well ask you the same thing, Mr. Vega," Dr. Chakwas responded haughtily. Samantha noticed that Dr. Chakwas' accent became slightly more pronounced in her angered state, much like her own mother's did when Samantha was growing up.

James' shirt was slowly soaking the blood from his nose, permanently staining the white fabric. It was easier to look at, not causing Samantha's stomach to turn. "What?" James asked, genuinely confused by what Dr. Chakwas had said.

"Was that necessary?! Asking Shepard to fight with you?"

"Okay, so my timing isn't the best," he said, his voice sounded as if he was suffering from a cold. "But sometimes you just gotta fight it out."

Dr. Chakwas' hands balled into fists. "Not with your Commanding Officer who's quite possibly suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder!"

"What?" Samantha heard herself and Steve ask simultaneously while James asked "Post-traumatic what what?"

"How else do you explain what happened?" Garrus offered. "She looked like she was seeing something else the way that she threw you and then pinned you to the floor, Vega. She probably would have killed you had she not snapped out of whatever it was when she did."

"Precisely," Dr. T'Soni added, nodding her head, moving her hands as she spoke. "Commander Shepard has had many violent run ins during her military career. It is quite possible that you did something to trigger one of her memories, forcing her to relive it as she finished fighting you," she said to James. She closed her eyes and shook her blue head, crossing her left arm across her stomach and bringing a curious right hand up to her face, her forefinger resting on her temple. "That's why these crew brawls are never a good idea."

"Well," Garrus started, as it there was something humorous about what she'd said. "Sometimes good things can come from them."

"It seems an awful lot like playing Russian roulette," Samantha voiced, trying to become a part of the conversation. Dr. T'Soni and Garrus both looked at her, confused. Samantha shook her head, moving past the human saying that was apparently lost on the aliens in front of her. "It's just that I understand the need to fight it out, like you say James."

"Thank you," James mumbled.

"But—when you're brawling with any number of soldiers, you run the risk of something like this happening," she shrugged, hugging herself. Samantha knew from her own experience that not all outbursts of PTSD were that of a violent nature. She, for example, simply would freeze and because utterly helpless. Granted, she hadn't had an episode in quite some time, but every once in a while she'd feel the unwarranted fear crawling up her neck for no reason at all.

James' shrugged. "We're soldiers. We learn from it and move on."

Dr. Chakwas angrily pursed her lips, glaring up at James' face. "And that, Mr. Vega, is where you're wrong. Post-traumatic stress disorder is not something that you can just _**shrug**_ off. It has serious mental health implications. It is something that requires treatment, not punches to the face!"

"Then why are you yelling at me?" James spat back, apparently tired of being scolded. "She's the one who might be suffering from it, not me. How am I supposed to know that the legendary Commander Shepard has violent outbursts when she falls on her ass?"

Dr. Chakwas opened her mouth and then closed it, her face falling from her previous anger. She obviously knew that James had a point, even if she was still mad at him. "I'm sorry, James. You're right. Here," she said, turning to stand next to him and putting a gentle hand on his back. "Come with me and I'll clean you up properly."

For a moment, it looked like James was about to refuse, but then he noticed how much blood had actually seeped onto his shirt. He nodded his head and the two began to walk towards the elevator.

The four remaining crew members watched them walk in silence. Once the doors slide shut behind them Samantha heard Steve let out a low whistle. Everyone turned a quizzical expression towards him. "I wasn't expecting that," he said, looking almost traumatized himself.

Garrus shrugged, walking closer to the requisitions table. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. You've seen his piss poor attitude on missions," he said, notably directed at Steve. "I, for one, am glad Shepard finally knocked some sense in to him."

"She could have killed him!" Dr. T'Soni said harshly as she walked forward as well. Samantha was surprised that the two were walking towards her and Steve. It was probably more because Steve was standing there, and he was an essential member of their team. But Samantha welcomed what sounded to be a group discussion. She hadn't been a part of one since leaving Earth.

Garrus and Liara came to a stop a few feet in front of the requisitions table. "Well, it was either Shepard kill him, knock sense into him, or he was well on his way to getting himself killed on the next mission," Garrus responded coldly.

"He has been doing some pretty drastic things while groundside," Steve responded, casually crossing his arms back over his stomach.

Samantha felt a small sting of jealousy; Steve knew the crew, well enough to have conversations about missions. Samantha was simply the tech girl ship side who monitored comms and messages. _Really… I could be replaced by EDI and no one would be the wiser,_ she thought darkly as she leaned back against the table next to Steve, putting her hands on the table's ledge.

"That's still no excuse for the only option to correct his actions being violence," Dr. T'Soni said, anger still in her voice.

"Liara, calm down," Garrus said, shaking his head. "It isn't an uncommon practice on active war ships. Hell—some of my best memories are from sparing sessions aboard ships." He smiled at that, recalling a memory.

"I dunno," Samantha finally spoke up. "I think it is still dangerous."

"Thank you, Samantha," the asari said with a friendly smile towards her.

Samantha blinked, taken aback by the fact that Dr. T'Soni, apparently Liara, had used her first name. She didn't remember having introduced herself. . .

Steve shook his head before Samantha's thought could continue and said, "Looks like it is boys versus the girls on this one. All in all," he continued before anyone could get in a word in edge wise. "I don't think anyone was in the right. Vega was way out of line. But maybe it'll force Shepard to get the help she needs."

Samantha let her eyebrows rise. "You think she needs help?" Steve and Liara nodded, while Garrus simply gave an indecisive shrug. "Why?"

Liara spoke first. "Shepard has seen and experienced things that no other living being could possibly imagine. She not only has her own personal memories of war and bloodshed, but the memories of the whole prothean race as well. I'm surprised we haven't noticed symptoms sooner, to be honest."

Along with being confused as to the reference of the prothean race memories, Samantha was surprised at how animatedly Liara spoke, articulating most of her words with different hand motions, usually ending a thought by bringing a curious hand to her chin. With how much her hands moved, it was almost distracting.

"She's a goddamn war hero," Garrus said smugly. "She isn't going to willingly seek medical help. Career military rarely do."

"Then we need to make sure she gets it," Liara said pointedly towards Garrus.

Samantha stood there for a moment as she tried to figure out what to say to get everyone off topic. Usually she was quick witted enough that things just poured out before she could stop it. But the thought that Shepard's mental health was in jeopardy made it difficult for Samantha to warrant poking fun at anything.

Garrus snarled, waving a dismissive hand at Liara. "Right, because the reapers will sit back and wait while Shepard goes to Alliance mandated therapy. We're at war, Liara. People are dying. Or has that not yet hit you because the reapers haven't honed in on Thesia yet?" Liara paled at the accusation, but pursed her lips and bowed her head in silence. It was enough for Garrus; he shook his head and started to abruptly walk towards the elevators. "I have guns to calibrate."

Samantha wanted to repeat her joke about reaper disintegration mode from the day before, but kept quiet. _How could this day turnabout so quickly?_ she thought to herself as she watched Garrus storm away. Once he was whisked away by the elevator, Samantha's gaze fell to the empty shuttle floor space where the fights had occurred, chewing on the inside of her lip. _The shuttle bay was alive with excitement and happiness not fifteen minutes ago… had James not pursued wanting to brawl with Shepard, we'd all still be laughing and joking. And I might even still be talking to Shepard…_ Her thoughts drifted away. She had been excited that she had come up to talk to her. For once she hadn't felt like a bumbling idiot, stumbling over her words or suppressing sexual thoughts. Sure, she'd taken a long look at the Commander when she had lifted her shirt to wipe her face, and again when she completely stripped the shirt to fight Vega—but for once it hadn't outwardly or completely flustered her.

Steve straightened his posture, standing up from his leaning position. "Well, I should get back to it," he said, lightly patting Samantha's back.

"Right, you have to fix the Kodiak before lesbian boobs Mr. Vega has a chance to run it into the ground again, eh?" Samantha attempted to joke back. It wasn't her wittiest comment, not by a long shot, but she desperately wanted to hear someone laugh.

Steve chuckled as he started to walk back towards the desk that had all the Kodiak parts displaced atop it. "You're never going to let him live that down, are you?"

"Never," she smiled, raising her voice making sure that he heard. She turned her attention tentatively towards Liara, who was still standing in front of her. She had a curious expression on her face, looking straight into Samantha's eyes. She blinked a few times, unsure what Liara was thinking.

Liara cleared her voice, shaking the curious expression off of her face. "Samantha, Glyph told me that you stopped by."

Samantha blinked. She'd almost forgotten that she'd wanted to talk with Liara. "Oh, yeah. But it wasn't for anything important."

"Oh," she responded simply. "Did you still need to talk to me? I have some down time before my next… um… report needs my attention," she clamored.

Samantha raised an eyebrow. It was apparent that Liara wasn't a very good liar, but what did she have to lie about? Samantha had seen Liara's quarters with all the vid screens and consoles. Whatever it was that she did for the Normandy crew, Samantha was pretty sure it wasn't just simple reporting to the Alliance or Citadel Council. "It almost seems silly now, after everything that's happened," Samantha said, moving up from her leaning position.

"Maybe we could all use a little silly right about now," Liara smiled.

Samantha returned the smile, but it was more of a melancholic smile than her usual beaming one. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Liara took a step to the side, bringing her left hand up by her stomach, motioning towards the elevators. "Shall we go to my quarters?"

"Sure," Samantha said, taking a few steps out. She sped up her pace when Liara started walking as well.

They walked together to the elevator and rode it to deck three in silence. Liara seemed to be lost in thought and Samantha was unsure how to start up any small talk, considering she knew nothing about Liara. Until about three minutes ago, she hadn't even know her first name. So far, the Normandy's mission schedule hadn't allowed much time for crew introductions. Samantha got their last name to populate when they're comm. feed was established and that was about it.

As they stepped off of the elevator and turned towards the port side of the ship, Samantha caught herself glancing towards the observation deck. She let out a quiet sigh and looked forward, following Liara to her quarters. She was hopeful that she'd see Shepard walking into or out of the observation deck, but she knew that it was silly to think. She wouldn't be anywhere that had public access. It's the same way she thought after she had a flash back from the Collectors on Horizon: she'd disappear somewhere in her apartment or at work where no one ever thought to look for her. Some small space where she couldn't be taken by surprise if someone did locate her. As the doors slid open to Liara's quarters, Samantha couldn't help but imagine Shepard curled up in some ball in a closet like she'd done her first few times dealing with her flashbacks. _This is Commander Shepard… she doesn't cower like you do,_ she thought to herself as the doors slid shut behind her. _Or does she?_

She was startled from her thoughts by Glyph's peppy synthetic voice. "Welcome back, Dr. T'Soni. Good evening, Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor."

Samantha blinked up at him (she assumed as his synthetic voice was very masculine), as he floated around in front of the two women. "Please, Glyph, just call me Samantha."

The VI hovered for a moment, the outside circles rotating a little as it moved what Samantha thought to be his front towards Liara. Liara smiled and gave a nod. Glyph's body moved back to face Samantha. "Of course, Samantha," and he floated away towards a console on the port side of the room.

_If only getting Shepard to call me that all the time was so easy,_ she thought to herself as she continued to walk into the room. A constant hum from all of the electronics filled the air. Liara walked in front of her, headed towards the small personal area in the rear of the room. Samantha slowly walked after her, cautiously stealing glances at the many vid screens and consoles. Most the vid screens seemed to be in a screen saver mode, while the consoles were all running some sort of program: text streamed across every console as she walked by.

Liara reached her personal quarter's area of the room, partitioned off my two thick glass panels that were open in the middle. Samantha knew that her personal area was small, but it was more room than she had to herself in the crew quarters. A double sized bed was in the middle, a small recliner and kitchenette area to the starboard side, and couch that fit perfectly between the glass and metal wall that sat under the port side with a small port-window on the wall. It was cozy and clean. Liara was standing by the kitchenette area and was pulling down a mug from a shelf. "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

Samantha smiled as she stepped through the glass-pane partition, entering the cozy area. "That would be lovely," she said. Being offered tea made her think of her mother, which was always a comforting feeling to her.

Liara nodded, pulling down another cup. She tapped a button on a small kettle that immediately started to produce steam vapors. She then opened a small jar, pulling out two tea bags. "Do you drink your tea straight, or do you prefer something in it?"

Samantha was tempted to say that doesn't do anything "straight," but refrained. She didn't know Liara's humor well enough to start throwing around her witty comments, not that that usually stopped her. But there was something about the setup of Liara's quarters that made Samantha feel that Liara was a no-nonsense person. "Oh, no. I like my tea plain," she said as a half-truth. Usually she'd drink it with milk and honey in it, but she didn't want to be too particular. That and the chances of the Normandy being stocked with either were slim.

Liara nodded again, not pulling anything else out. She grabbed the steaming kettle and poured water into both mugs. She turned around, one mug in each hand and walked towards the couch, sitting on the end of the couch nearest the metal of the back wall.

Samantha took the cue to sit next to her, graciously taking the mug. "Thank you," she said, grabbing the string of the tea bag and gently pulling on it so that the tea started to steep faster as she forced it to bob up and down.

"Of course. So few people on the Normandy drink tea. It's refreshing to be able to share a cup with someone," Liara said with a smile.

"Well, next time we're on the Citadel I'll make sure to pick up a tea set. We can sit down whenever you like," Samantha joked in response.

Liara let her smile widened. "If only we could do that at our leisure," she said morosely.

Samantha frowned; her attempt to lighten the already awkward mood between her and Liara had fallen flat. She continued moving the tea bag in her mug, looking down and watching the color of the strong black tea seep out of the sachet and into the water—like watching paint being dropped into clear rinse cup.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" Liara asked after a moment of silence.

"Oh," Samantha said, slightly startled. "Well, in all honesty, I stopped by to ask you a few questions about Commander Shepard," Samantha said, not making eye contact with Liara.

Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha noticed Liara blink and tilt her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why did you want to ask me?"

Samantha shrugged, watching the color of her mug darken as the tea continued to steep. "Honestly, I don't know. You were the first person who came to mind when the questions started to pop up in my head." Samantha brought her mug to her nose, smelling the tea. It was a strong black tea that almost smelled like the blend her father was known for drinking. But the smell wasn't strong enough, so it wasn't done steeping. "I tried to look into her file, but it's all classified. And what isn't classified is heavily redacted."

Liara took a slow, cautious sip of her tea. Apparently it was to her liking already. "With my experience," she said, bringing her cup down to her lap with both hands were clasped around it. "Shepard dislikes people going behind her back to find out information."

"Does she?" Samantha gulped.

Liara nodded. "After I first met Shepard, I looked up her service record because I knew nothing about her. I was a simple archeologist then, and my people skills were not what they are today," she said with a smile that told she was recalling a memory. "I'd made a fool of myself in a previous conversation with her and decided to look up her record to see if I couldn't gain some sort of insight into her being. But when I mentioned it to her the next time she and I spoke, she was greatly offended that I hadn't simply asked her in the first place."

Samantha was taken by how little Liara moved her hands while she spoke. In the shuttle bay, everything had been articulated with some motion of her hands. But her hands stayed cupping her tea in her lap, while the expression on her face seemed sad.

"But she can be hard to talk to, I suppose," Liara continued. "She's always deflecting questions back onto the people she's talking with, never really revealing much about herself."

Samantha nodded, finally trying a sip of her tea. It was wonderful; full of rich flavor with a hint of orange. It was similar to the earl grey tea her father drank, but not as bitter. "I've gathered as much. She and I have only talked a few times. The one time I asked her a personal question she flat out told me we weren't talking about her."

Liara smiled with a silent laugh. "Ah yes, she does that. She's more interested in knowing what's going on with her crew. She's always made a point of checking in with everyone after a mission to make sure that we were all alright. And not just physically, but mentally, too." Her smiled turned into a soft frown. "She even came about to see me after every debriefing we had, and after each mission."

Samantha took another sip of the tea. She was glad that Liara was actually turning out to be easy to talk to. "Why wouldn't she come to see you?"

Liara took in a sigh, still cupping her mug in her hands. "You could say that there was an awkward tension between us. That and the rest of the crew had put it into her head that I was more interested in the prothean beacon information in her brain than I was her."

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "Prothean beacon information?"

Liara nodded, and paused for a moment. She quickly realized that Samantha needed to be caught up. "Shepard found a few prothean artifacts that turned out to be beacons—devices that protheans used to transfer their memories to one another," she added when she saw the confused look on Samantha's brow. "I spent most of my life studying the protheans. Shepard actually saved me while I was on a dig sight on Therum. But being on dig sights and researching up until I met Shepard and joined the Normandy left me with very little experience in how to deal with people. Especially humans. I could always tell that she was slightly uncomfortable around me."

"So she never opened up to you about anything?" Samantha asked, taking in another sip of tea as she finished speaking.

"Shepard's never really been one to let others in. Ashley was the exception to that, I suppose."

"Ashley? The one that the Cerberus mech almost killed on mars?"

Liara brought her mug up to her lips and took a long drink. As she brought the mug down, she said, "Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams." Her eyes were distant and what was left of her smile had disappeared.

"I take it you don't much like her," Samantha inquired.

"What, oh goddess no," Liara shook her head. "Ashley is a wonderful person. A bit naïve and a bit tarnished towards other species, but she's always been friendly." She brought her mug up to her lips to take another sip but she stopped, bringing it down abruptly. "It's just that Ashley is the one person Shepard can't have, romantically speaking. But she's the one that Shepard has always seemed to love."

The frustration in Liara's voice took Samantha by surprise, as did what she was saying. _Shepard's in love with someone?_ She did what she could to not let her own face reveal her disheartened emotion. "Are you jealous?" Samantha asked in a humorous tone. She was actually glad at what she was hearing. Ashley was obviously a woman. And if Shepard had feelings for her, then that meant that she wasn't straight, which put a small glimmer of hope back into Samantha's chest.

Liara brought a nervous hand up to her neck as she looked Samantha in the eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you're easy to talk to?"

Samantha laughed. "Sure—but don't pull a Shepard and deflect the question now."

Liara laughed. "Pull a Shepard. I like that," she said, bringing her hand down to cup her mug again. "I guess I was jealous at one point, although that is all in the past. Shepard is a very charismatic woman. Anyone who speaks with her feels special while she's talking to them. She has a way of making you feel wanted, important, and… well… loved." Liara's voice grew softer as she continued on.

Samantha forced herself to take a long sip of her tea to hide what she knew her face was showing. Shepard made her feel those silly butterflies in her stomach whenever she spoke to her. And the comment she made the night before, about not letting the war change her, it had all felt genuine. It had all made Samantha so confused. Did she actually have feelings for Shepard, or was Shepard's charismatic nature making her see or feel things that weren't really there. "Did…did you think she was in love with you?"

Liara laughed uncomfortably. "I'm not sure why I'm telling you this," she paused, eyeing Samantha. "But yes. When she and I first met, I thought that there was something between us. When I brought it up, Shepard immediately shot me down, apologizing for giving me the wrong idea," she shook her head and moved her fingers while they continued to hold her mug. "After talking with Garrus, he too apparently thought that Shepard was in love with him while they were working with Cerberus. I'm sure if you asked any member of her team, they'd all say that at one point or another, they all thought that Shepard had feelings for them."

Samantha's stomach suddenly felt empty. It was an unpleasant feeling that she'd only felt once before—after Natalie broke up with her so abruptly, through email, for the final time. She thought that it was a bit drastic, to be feeling so empty about a woman who she hardly knew and was most definitely not romantically involved with. Attempting to get rid of the feeling, she said, "So she's the Alliance heartthrob."

Liara smiled. "You could say that. But one thing is for sure—even if she doesn't romantically love the people on her crew, I think she cares deeply for each and every one of them. She's a good leader. She's the most selfless being I've ever met. I guess I finally got over the fact that I couldn't be with her by telling myself that I at least was a part of her life in some small way."

Samantha smiled as she continued to try and hide the feelings and thought swirling around in her head. "That's awfully wise for someone so young."

Liara laughed daintily. "Well, I am only 109."

Samantha sputtered into her tea as she took a sip. "Only?"

"Remember, we asari live for a thousand years. I'm still considered barely more than a teenager among my people."

"Well, I hope I look as good as you do when I'm in my hundreds," Samantha said with a smile.

"Interesting, that's the same thing Ashley said when she heard my age."

Samantha gave her a playful wave. "Female humans all want to have perky boobs when we're older. Makes sure we'll still get some kind of action, I guess."

Liara blinked a few times before she let herself laugh. Samantha felt the heat in her cheeks rise. It probably came off as her flirting with Liara, but she was just trying to be her witty self. The emotions that were running through her head since the incident in the shuttle bay had thrown her mood, making it almost impossible for her to be herself. Idly sitting and having a casual cup of tea was helpful, though.

"I'm flattered that you find my breasts… perky," Liara amusedly said. She leaned forward and put her mug on the small coffee table, bringing her right leg up over her left. "So why are you so curious about Commander Shepard? Have you been getting mixed signals from her?"

It was Samantha's turn to laugh. It came off more nervous than she had intended it to, but she had to attempt to cover up that Liara had hit it right on the money. "Oh you know—just trying to get a feel for what people think about her. She seems nice," she said. She wasn't lying, but she wasn't answering Liara's question either. Liara seemed to see right through it. But she continued anyway. "I guess I was just curious as to why she has the absolute devotion from her team. From what I've seen so far, she is an amazing Commander, and a tactical genius. But being shipside, I only get to hear so mu—" Samantha was cut off by the power suddenly dimming in the cabin. "This again?!"

The consoles in the other part of the room began beeping, and the vid screens went blue. Samantha quickly glanced at Liara, who looked worried. They both stood and walked into the main cabin area. The power was back up, but the power fluctuation was the biggest one yet.

"Glyph," Liara said urgently. "What is going on?"

"Dr. T'Soni, Pilot Moreau has just summoned Commander Shepard to the AI core. The AI, referred to as EDI, has gone offline."

Liara paled. "Oh no."

Samantha looked from Glyph to Liara. "I understand that EDI going off line is an issue, but why do you make it sound like it's a death sentence?"

Liara walked over to a desk and pulled out a pistol. "Dr. Eva Coré…the Cerberus mech is being stored in the AI core."

Samantha felt her heart stop. This was bad.

* * *

The elevator doors opened, letting Shepard and Jack run out. Jack stayed behind, making sure that none of her students tried to get in the way. Shepard sprinted towards the med bay. Smoke was pouring out of the AI core and settling on the ceiling of the med bay. Dr. Chakwas was being escorted out by a crew member as Shepard ran in.

As she entered the med bay and slowed her run to a walk, she heard a loud hissing noise suddenly reverberate from behind the AI core doors. "What's that sound?" she asked, gently flaring her biotics. They were still weak, and she was probably not fit for a fight, but she had to protect her crew.

"Fire extinguishers, Commander," Joker's voice sounded through the speakers in the ceiling. "Could be an electrical fire… or something." It was apparent in his voice that he was worried about the Cerberus mech as well.

Shepard looked to Engineer Adams, who stood ready with a fire extinguisher in one hand and his omni-tool active in the other. "Automated systems have the fires contained. It should be safe to enter."

Shepard nodded to him. "I'm going in."

Adams moved forward, overriding the doors with his omni-tool. It was slow, but the doors finally crawled open. Shepard steadied what little biotic power she had left, ready to cover Adams if Dr. Eva's mech suddenly appeared. Once he could walk through, Adams stepped forward as the smoke billowed out in the med bay. Small fires were present on the ground, and some were on the side wall. He began to extinguish the fires as Shepard walked closely in behind him. "EDI—talk to me."

The whirling sounds of fans kicked in, and the blue lights of the AI core came back online. Over the sound of the fans, Adams and the extinguisher, Shepard heard the faint sound of heels clicking on the floor. In a moment of panic, Shepard grabbed Adams by the shoulder and pulled him behind her, flaring her barrier and waited for energy to throw a flare.

"Is there a particular topic you wish to discuss, Shepard?" EDI's voice sounded.

Shepard lowered her biotic barrier, but still kept her hand outstretched for Adams to stay behind her. Slowly, as the smoke was sucked out of the room, Shepard could see the faint outline of the mech, but it was slowly walking towards her.

"EDI?" Shepard asked, squinting through the smoke. The mech came into full view and stopped, crossing it's arms over it's stomach and leaning slightly back on one leg. The mech's body was streamlined and had curves in all of the right places. Had the body been a human, Shepard would have admittedly stared; but knowing that it was a mech made Shepard keep her composure. Adams had moved forward ever so slightly with his gun raised. Shepard put her hand on his gun, making him lower it.

The mech spoke. "Yes," came out in EDI's iconic synthetic voice.

Shepard narrowed her eyes. _What the hell happened in here…_

* * *

The door wouldn't open to their summons. Samantha pried the control panel off of the wall to see if she could hot wire the door to open. She was the closest thing they had to an AI specialist on board. She had to get out there. Best case scenario, something was malfunctioning in the AI hardware and the mech was still lifeless. Worst case scenario… she didn't want to admit what that might be.

"Allow me, Samantha," Glyph sounded as he hovered by Samantha's shoulder, after she'd been at it for a minute or so.

She eyed him for brief moment before moving to the side. He floated in from of the exposed panel and then dematerialized into the panel. Before Samantha had a chance to glance at Liara, the doors slide open. "Why didn't we do that to begin with?" She asked as she and Liara darted from the room.

Liara didn't respond. As they rounded the corner of the alcove that her quarters were set back into, she came to a stop, putting a hand out to stop Samantha as well. Looking up, Samantha saw that there was residual smoke floating from the med bay's open doors.

"Here," Liara said abruptly, handing Samantha her pistol.

"What? No," Samantha said, pulling her hands away from the offered gun. "No, I'm a terrible shot. I'll just hang back."

Liara nodded. She went into a slight crouch as she walked, darting across the mess hall. Samantha clung to the alcove partition, half her body shielded by the wall, and watched. As Liara crouched underneath the med bay windows that looked into the mess hall, Samantha saw two figures move out of the AI core. They were calmly walking, but it was unclear as to who they were due to all the residual smoke in the room.

Liara took in a deep breath and looked as if she was about to roll the corner. Before she did so, she made eye contact with Samantha, possibly trying to check if it was clear. Samantha looked from her to the two walking figures rapidly. She bit her lower lip and brought her right hand up in a closed fist, trying to tell Liara to hold her position.

It worked. Liara nodded and flattened her back where she was. Samantha let out a shaky breath as she continued to hide and watch at the same time.

The two figures were getting closer to the doors. Samantha had the urge to bite her nails, but didn't. She was Liara's eyes and needed to stay focused on what was happening. She was relieved when she heard Shepard's voice, "Just… don't be surprised if the crew is a little wary of your new body. It was shooting at them a little while ago."

Samantha raised her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. Liara looked equally confused.

"An excellent point," EDI's voice sounded. But it wasn't coming from the com system in the ship. It sounded like she was talking next to Shepard's silhouette. "I will take it to the bridge. Joker will also want to see it."

"On that, we can agree," Shepard's voice chuckled.

Samantha's jaw dropped when she saw a mech walk out of the med bay with Shepard. Shepard was smiling, shaking her head as the mech unit continued walking. She looked up as the mech unit disappeared behind the elevator shaft, making curious eye contact with Samantha.

"What's wrong, Specialist?" Shepard asked loudly. She looked genuinely concerned, standing there in her heavily wrinkled and bloodied tank top.

Samantha moved away from the wall, no longer hiding half of her body and took a few steps forward. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, finger extended pointing to where the mech had disappeared to, but found that no words were forming. She probably looked like a fish gasping for air.

Liara stood, putting her pistol on a clip on her belt. "What is going on, Shepard?"

Shepard's gaze snapped to Liara. Once she realized what the two of them must have been doing, she smiled again, her posture relaxing. "Well… EDI found out how to repurpose the Cerberus mech."

Samantha's jaw dropped again. "That was EDI that just walked to the elevator?!"

Shepard laughed. "Sure was. Now you've got a body to imagine alongside her voice, Traynor."

Samantha flushed. She could feel the heat from her cheeks radiating in her ears. She'd forgotten that she'd apologized to EDI in front of Shepard.

"Well," Liara said, putting a finger to her temple. "That could be useful in the field."

Shepard nodded. "That's what she thought, too. We'll test her out on the next mission."

Samantha's stomach dropped again. Now EDI had a body… the small feeling of being replaceable by EDI that she had when she was in the shuttle bay returned in full force. Samantha felt herself frown, the heat from her cheeks slowly retreating.

"Shepard, are you alright?" Samantha heard Liara ask softly. Samantha looked up from her own hollow stomach to see that Liara had taken a step towards Shepard, and put a tentative hand on her wrist. Even to Samantha, it was apparent that Liara wasn't talking about what had just happened. She was referring to the shuttle bay incident.

"I'm fine," she said, with finality in her tone. She didn't shrug Liara's hand off, but she didn't return the gesture either. She looked exhausted. Her hair was in wispy strands around her face, her eyes seemed heavy, and she had bruises beginning to form on her face and arms.

Liara let go and took a step back. Trying to salvage the conversation without anyone feeling more awkward than they already did, Samantha walked up and said, "We couldn't see much of what happened in the AI core from out here, but there seemed to have been some sort of fire. You weren't hurt, were you?"

Shepard looked at her and chuckled softly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about EDI?"

Samantha didn't let the hollow feeling her stomach show in her emotions. Yes, she was worried about EDI… but she was also worried about the necessity of her position. "Don't get me wrong… EDI is a huge asset to this team. If she'd told me about her plan to obtain a body, I'd have volunteered to help."

"I did not wish to force a conflict of interest between our friendship and your duty," EDI's voice sounded from the com speakers in the mess hall.

All three women in the mess hall made a noticeable flinch at the sound of EDI's voice. Shepard looked around to see if she'd not gotten on the elevator. Liara looked confusedly up at the ceiling. Samantha glanced around, but continued nervously, "I'd have preferred a conflict of interest to the electrical problems that we've been having lately…but thanks, regardless." She stayed quiet, waiting to see if EDI would respond. She didn't. She looked at Liara and Shepard, "That's going to take some getting used to."

"What will?" Liara asked.

"EDI having a body, but still being able to talk to us anywhere on the ship," Samantha said, hugging herself. She hugged her arms to her chest, suddenly cold. She couldn't tell if the temperature had dropped or it was just from the drastic change in her mood.

Shepard laughed, making Samantha look at her. She looked tired, but seemed to be at ease. "It most certainly will. At least now we have a body to picture when she speaks."

Heat flushed back into her cheeks. "As does Moreau," she added.

"He most certainly does. I wonder if he'll ask her to stay in the cockpit, for morale reasons or something," Shepard humored.

Liara looked a Samantha. "So you think the electrical problems we've been having have been the cause of EDI's acquisition of the mech unit?"

Samantha nodded. "Pretty sure. She'd had some pretty long lag times lately. I'd wager all the issues we've been having can be linked back to this."

"Well," Liara started. "Since that's the case, will we still be stopping at the Citadel for repairs, Shepard?"

Shepard nodded, crossing her arms over her stomach. "Yeah. I think the crew could use a shore day, or afternoon. That and I wanted to go see Ashley. She emailed me yesterday letting me know that she was conscious."

"Oh, that is good to hear," Liara said with a genuine smile. "I'm relieved that she is doing well. Are you going to try and see if she'll join us?"

Shepard nodded. "Yeah—she'd be a valuable addition to the team," she said with a distant look in her eyes. She blinked, smile back on her face. "You'd like her, Traynor. She's almost as quick witted as you are."

Samantha could only smile. She didn't know what to really add to the conversation. But she did know this—she needed to start focusing on work instead of Commander Shepard. Now that EDI was mobile, her position seemed more expendable than ever. And with Shepard's long time love interest potentially joining the crew, Samantha knew that any sliver of hope that something might form between them was now a fast fading glimmer. Maybe now she could focus all of her attention on work, rather than constantly be worried about her feelings for Shepard.

She was, after all in the military. _Oh-ra._

* * *

**A/N**: It's been mentioned that Samantha's POV isn't what people are used to. I want to acknowledge that I agree and it is one thing that is driving me crazy while writing, making the time between posts that much longer. I feel like I have a strong sense of who my Shepard is, but I am having a hard time capturing Samantha. I've turned to watching clips on Youtube for when I can't simply go and play the game. So, I know it might be irksome or painful to read right now, but I promise I'm doing my homework and trying to elevate her back to the witty Comm Specialist that we all fell in love with while playing the game. Although her somber mood in this chapter fits, I'm hoping to get away from it. Too much of the whole somber moody stuff will, I'm sure, drive some of you away—which I don't want.

And just so you know: Fall semester has started, which means my free time that I used to use to write this has greatly diminished (considering I work full time and will be taking 15 credit hours this semester… all upper level English courses… God help me -_-). I'm still hoping to stay pretty consistent with posting, but it will decrease to once a month, twice if I'm lucky. But I promise this thing will be written to completion!

Alright my lovelies, thanks for reading and sticking with me! I seriously do a little happy dance every time I get a follow, favorite, and/or review. So keep me dancing! Cheers!


	7. Dirty Details, Dammit

**A/N**: Holy buckets! I apologize for the time between posts. I thought I'd have a little more time to get this finished and posted for you guys but this semester is really kicking my ass and draining all of my creative juices. But here it is! I hope to have another chapter posted before December, but I can't promise anything. Thanks for sticking with me and reviewing, even if just to say "please update soon." Even when you follow or favorite, those email reminders keep me honest. Enjoy!

* * *

**Dirty Details, Dammit  
**_fanfic by MistressNoriko_

Samantha stood at the Citadel Commons area. She'd gone to see Steve before she'd left the Normandy, but he had had a few things to finish before he felt comfortable leaving the shuttle bay. It had given her time to go and buy a few things: Her toothbrush, for one, had come in from her special order and she had gone to pick it up. The British had come a long way since the eighteen hundreds and their poorly maintained teeth. She had always taken pride in having a healthy smile, hints why she was willing to drop six-thousand credits on a toothbrush, even if it emptied her savings account.

The longest stop she made had been at the pharmacy; dealing with non-humans pharmacists in regards to her prescriptions had been more of a headache than it had been worth—especially considering the medicine they couldn't find was one for her migraines. She'd found her antihistamine, proton pump inhibitor, and her inhaler prescriptions without any difficulty. The pharmacists insisted that they would continue looking for the _sucrosapsunol _and let her know as soon as they found anything.

She'd also had some time to go to the Alliance depot and pick up a few new pairs of socks and under garments. She was still dissatisfied with how plain they all were; there was absolutely nothing exciting about them. She was just glad that she wasn't trying to impress anyone at the present, because the standard black was simply distasteful and quiet unflattering against her honeyed skin. She would have much preferred white… or a dark red... hell even green—anything other than the drab black mate fabric that they were. And it wouldn't hurt to add a bit of lace, too.

Her messenger bag that held her bounty of the day hung off of her shoulder as she stood while leaning on a banister, looking out at the Citadel arms. Her mood hadn't been much improved since her last encounter with Shepard after the EDI incident. She had abruptly excused herself to go and catch some sleep. Thankfully, her body let her sleep for once, instead of tormenting her with thoughts filled with questions she could never answer, about Shepard, the war, and how she felt about EDI's presence on the ship. She'd slept for about six hours, a vast improvement over her sleep over the past few days. She had taken her time getting ready to go knowing that she'd have to wait on Steve anyway. He was worse than some women that Samantha knew, but it wasn't because he was worried how he looked, it was because he always got caught up with something right before he had to be somewhere; Samantha could sympathize, it was something that Natalie couldn't stand about her while they'd been together.

Her elbows resting on the banister, she couldn't help but think about Earth. The Citadel was beautiful, but it was stagnant. She longed to hear the rustling leaves being blown about by the wind, or the feeling of rain falling on her face, or the smell of wet grass from the torrential down pour that England was known for. She missed her time at Oxford; she'd often go and walk around in the rain when she had a lot on her mind. It had been years since she'd been able to do that. It had rained once while she had been on Horizon for that week, visiting her parents… before the collectors hit and took half of the colony. But it had been more of a misting than an all-out downpour.

She desperately wished she could be walking in the rain now. She'd always been able to clear her head the best that way. She'd officially come to the conclusion that she needed to move on from Shepard. And not like the last time she'd told herself to do it, but actually give it a go. After talking with Liara, it was apparent that Shepard was just being nice to her, like she was with every other member of her crew. The only thing that Samantha had over everyone else is that she'd held Shepard while she'd cried… and secretly kissed her while she slept. The holding her had happened by happenstance… the kiss had been her own stupid volition that she still couldn't find justification for, almost a week later.

Shepard aside, the thing that was weighing on her mind at the present was the sheer fact that EDI now had a body… which made her feel like she may no longer have a place aboard the Normandy. _Why does serving on the Normandy mean so much to you?_ She thought, looking out as cars and taxis zoomed past. _It's not like I couldn't simply do my job from a desk at Alliance HQ. _

Before she could continue down that thought trail, she felt someone poke either side of her rib cage. She let out squeal, rapidly spinning around with a hand raised to smack the culprit. Steve stood there, grinning, his hands retracted up by his chest.

"You little…" Samantha started, but she was smiled and lowered her hand.

"Payback's a real bitch, isn't she?" he teased, moving up beside her and leaning on the banister.

Samantha repositioned her messenger bag and resumed her leaning posture next to Steve. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry," he started. "I was in the middle of calibrating the thrusters and it took a lot longer than I thought it would have. But I'm here now," he said with a smile. Before Samantha could throw a joke at him, telling him that he was beginning to sound like Garrus, he continued. "So—I've got exactly an hour before my tools are recharged and ready to go."

Samantha's smile faltered. "Only an hour?"

He nodded. "We're not even scheduled to be in port that long. As soon as the electrical crew clears the Normandy, Joker said Shepard wanted to head out to the war summit."

"The war summit? Shit… I have data feeds to set up for that that I have totally neglected."

Steve chuckled. "Well, when we head back to the Normandy, you can feed them candy and tell them that you'll never neglect them again."

"Oh no, candy is for babies. I'll probably have to show them my knickers or something. Those data feeds can be awfully fussy."

They shared a laugh together. Samantha linked her arm under Steve's and leaned her head on his shoulder. He didn't shy away, which was one of the reasons that Samantha liked hanging around him. She didn't have the urge to be physical all of the time, but when she did, it was nice to know that she could grab onto Steve's arm and that he didn't mind.

"So—tell me about this crush on Commander Shepard," Steve said, idly watching a taxi car drive by.

Samantha let out a heavy sigh. "I dunno, Steve. The more I think about it, the more I think I am just fooling myself."

He turned towards her, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know Shepard… she's nice to everyone. I think I've been reading her wrong… seeing something that isn't there."

"What she thinks about you is irrelevant, Sam. What do you think about her?"

"Huh?" Samantha sounded, loosening her grip on Steve's arm to allow her to turn toward him.

He gave a soft smile. "What is it about Shepard that makes you blush?"

Samantha blinked. She couldn't tell him about the first night that she'd met Commander Shepard. She had sworn herself to secrecy. But… what was it about Shepard that made her blush so profusely all of the time? "Her eyes," she said before she really thought it through. "Those brilliant green eyes get me every time. Especially when she's winking at me." Steve chuckled, but continued looking at Samantha, waiting for her to continue. "I'm not sure what it is… looking into her eyes I feel like she shows you not only that she's the hard ass, here I come to save the day, Commander Shepard… but you also see her softer side… the side that the public never gets to see."

Steve tilted his head to the side. "I'm not sure I've seen that look," he admitted.

Samantha blinked slowly a few times, trying to recall exactly when she'd seen that look in Shepard's eyes. _When she begged you to promise her that you wouldn't let the war change you,_ she answered herself.

"Alright, so she's got you by her eyes. What else?" he prodded, as Samantha had taken too long to answer.

"God, I don't know, Steve," she started. "What about her _**isn't**_ appealing to a girl like me? She's gorgeous, fit, strong willed, and independent. How is a lowly girl from Horizon not supposed to find her attractive?"

"Sounds like you're more than just attracted to her."

"Ugh," Samantha said, putting her forehead to Steve's shoulder. "But she's friendly with everyone, Steve. What I thought was there… isn't."

"What are you talking about?"

Samantha let out another sigh. She needed a sounding board. She needed to get her thoughts about Shepard out of her head and hopefully they'd stay there. "I talked with Liara T'Soni after the incident in the shuttle bay. Apparently, she's the Normandy heartthrob. Most everyone on her crew has thought that she's been in love with them at some point or another."

Steve eyed her. "I wasn't aware that you'd had many interactions with the Commander."

Samantha fought the threatening feeling of a blush rising to her cheeks. She knew if she started blushing now, she'd end up revealing Shepard's secret meltdown. She cleared her throat. "She's pulled me aside to chat a few times," she said, trying to sound convincing.

He looked at her for a moment longer before he shrugged. It was apparent that Samantha was holding back something, but he wasn't about to start prying for it. "You know, it isn't uncommon for crew to think they have feelings for their CO, right? I mean, they have the guilty fantasy about being ordered around, which we all know can be erotic. But more importantly, they're constantly saving your ass. When you work in such tight quarters, you get friendly."

"But how is it that everyone has seen that friendliness as love or infatuation?"

Steve was quiet for a moment. "Well… probably because the crew she works with isn't Alliance. In the Alliance, there are strict regulations against fraternization. So, on an Alliance cruiser, you become close, like family. That's what Shepard knows; I mean she's been with the Alliance since the day she turned 18. That's half her life, and it's all that she knows. Non-Alliance types might see how she interacts with people as more than it really is."

"Well, what about me? I'm Alliance."

"You've also never served on the front lines or an active war ship before."

"True," Samantha said. She knew that her feelings had been foolish. Listening to Steve, it all made sense. Shepard treats her crew like family. It is a form of love that she has for everyone, but it wasn't the intimate kind. If she started looking at Shepard through the "family" lens instead of the "attractive" lens, she might be able to finally get over her grade school crush and be able to focus on her job or have a conversation without fumbling over her nervousness.

"I'm not trying to say you shouldn't like her, though," Steve continued. Samantha mentally groaned at his change of tone. "There seemed to be a little bit of flirting going on in the shuttle bay on both of your parts."

"What?" Samantha scoffed. "I'm pretty sure I'd notice if I was being flirted with." As she was saying it, she remembered thinking the exact same thing. How Shepard had leaned against the wall and towards her, telling her to stay. How she'd come directly up to them, talking to Steve first and then to her. _It's a move _**I've**_used, for Christ sake. _

"Oh really," Steve eyed her. "I know that she lifted her shirt because she saw you looking and wanted to get a rise out of you."

The blush in her cheek finally broke through. She blinked a few times and then turned to face Steve, looking him nervously in the eyes. "What? When?!"

"When she wiped her face with her shirt. She glanced at us—not me because she knows that I'm not interested—and had this odd smirk on her face. Then, as she was bringing her shirt down, she peered over her shirt and looked at you again."

Samantha gave him a flat look. "You're totally making that up."

"Am not."

"I was… well… looking at her the whole time. I would have noticed if she had been looking at me."

Steve laughed. "You were too preoccupied looking at her sweaty body to notice what her eyes were doing."

Samantha opened her mouth to respond, but closed it. She didn't want to hear this. She wanted Steve to affirm what Liara said, that Shepard was the way she was around her, just the same as she was the same around everyone else. That she wasn't treating Samantha any differently. She could move on from there, only admiring Shepard from afar, as she knew the affection was one sided. With what Steve was saying—it complicated what she was trying to do.

"I think you're imagining that. Anyway—we're at war. I shouldn't even be worried about any of this. So what if I have a crush on my Commanding Officer? Who doesn't have a crush on her?"

"I don't," Steve said impishly.

"Because of her boobs?" Samantha asked, tilting her head down and looking up at him, as if looking over a pair of glasses.

He smiled. "Because boobs," he answered, playfully shrugging.

They shared a laugh. But then Steve put a hand on Samantha's. "Hey—I know you might feel like worrying about romance is a waste of time, given the galactic state and all…but we still have to do things to keep life normal. You falling for Shepard might keep you sane through this."

"Or drive me absolutely batty."

"That too," he smiled. "But don't write her off. Maybe stop obsessing about it, but don't write her off. When you stop obsessing over it, you'll be able to just enjoy the conversations you have with her, instead of analyzing them to see if there is an ulterior motive or meaning."

_But that's just what I do,_ Samantha thought. _My _**job**_ is to analyze everything._

She gave a soft smile. _For being someone who just lost his husband and never took advice about moving on, he sure could give the advice_, she thought. _Albeit frustrating and not what you wanted to hear…_ But what he said rang true. If something was going to happen—then it would happen. Until then, she just needed to enjoy her time with Shepard like Liara learned to do. It was better to be a part of her life than to be separate from it. Maybe that would help her not be such a fumbling idiot in front of her. So maybe she wasn't destined to fall in love with the Commander Shepard, but she'd still be able to be a part of her life… _that has to count for something,_ she thought.

Samantha stood up, linking her arm through Steve's again. "Alright, Mr. Love Guru… enough advice. Let's get back to saving the galaxy, one data feed and thruster calibration at a time."

Steve sneered. "There's a dirty joke in there, somewhere."

Samantha playfully raised an eyebrow, winking. "Always."

* * *

Shepard nervously ran her thumb along the spine of the book she was holding in her hand as she rode the elevator up to Huerta Memorial. She'd been lucky, finding a _**physical**_ book at the citadel markets, especially one written in English. And better yet—it was a collection of Tennyson, one of Ashley's favorites.

The elevator ride was a long one; it felt even longer since Shepard was running on barely a naps worth of sleep. She'd stayed up late talking with Jack in her cabin. Jack quickly realized that Shepard was through talking about the shuttle bay incident and all things related, so they spent a few hours catching up. They talked about the old crew and where they thought everyone had ended up and recapped what Jack had done while Shepard was a "guest" at Alliance HQ in Vancouver. Shepard was surprised that Jack was recruited by Grissom almost immediately after the Normandy was handed over, so her list of shenanigans was relatively small.

Shepard rolled her neck from side to side as the elevator continued to climb. She had let Jack fall asleep on her bed while she tried to occupy her time with war summit correspondences. She had fallen asleep on the couch while she was sitting up, which caused the current soreness in her neck. The rest of her body still ached from the day before; usually after a fight or mission, Shepard was good to go the next day, but after doing a mission and two fights, her body had decided that she needed to be punished. Thankfully, nothing was too obviously bruised. She was just stiff, mainly in her knees, elbows, and hands. The effect that the day had on her mentally still lingered, no matter how hard she tried to shake it.

Shepard had seen Jack and Sanders off at the loading docks; they had much to do with readying the students for their new support roles. Shepard was sad to see Jack go, she would have loved nothing more than to have her stationed on the Normandy; but she knew that Jack was where she needed to be. Where she would be most useful and there was no one in the galaxy who would keep her students safer than she would. As selfish as Shepard wanted to be, she couldn't help smile at Jack's resolve to stay with the kids. She really was a decent human being, once you got passed the sailor mouth, lack of proper clothing coverage, tattoos, and broody attitude.

As the elevator continued its climb, Shepard began to tap her foot impatiently. She had always hated the damn things—especially the ones on the Citadel. Some of them might as well have been trains, with how far they travelled. She could see her reflection on the glass of the door; she at least looked a little better than she felt. She had tied her hair back at the base of her neck, loose strands falling on the sides of her face and wore her casual attire, cargo pants and her N7 t-shirt and hoodie. No need to wear her dress blues for Ashley, considering she wasn't attending any Alliance functions or meetings while docked at the Citadel. She was hoping that the Normandy would only be docked half of the day so that they could get back to work. She needed to get the War Summit officially underway—the Salarians were already in position at the designated meeting coordinates at the Pranas System, in the Annos Basin. The electrical issues had been a good excuse to stop and a valid reason for the Normandy's delay, giving Shepard time to see Ashley.

Finally, the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened with a simple chime, and a synthetic voice sounding "you've arrived at Huerta Memorial Hospital." Shepard took in a deep breath, nodding to herself. She would be the first to admit that she was nervous as she started to walk into the waiting area of the hospital. She hadn't really talked to Ashley since Horizon, while she was working with Cerberus. That conversation had not gone well, at all. It was also the reason why she didn't drink much anymore, especially Turian whiskey. Ashley's words had cut Shepard pretty deeply. When Ashley helped extract her from Earth, they hadn't had any time to talk about it. They had had a heated conversation on Mars, but it hardly felt like it was the closure that Ashley needed on the subject.

As Shepard looked around, she noticed that the waiting room was relatively full. It wasn't hard to believe, given the galaxy's state and all. There were families talking next to the large windows, solitary people sitting in chairs, and so on. There were no seats available and the noise level was a constant hum of conversation.

Shepard walked up to the desk and said that she was here to see a patient. After exchanging some information the desk clerk told her that Ashley currently had a visitor and that she would have to wait for a few minutes. Shepard tried to pull the Spectre card, but the clerk wouldn't budge. With a frustrated sigh, she walked over to the windows overlooking the Citadel gardens below.

"Commander Shepard?"

Shepard looked to her right, where the gurgling voice had originated from. Thane was looking at her; he was in a low stance and had his hands up by his face, as though he had been boxing. "Thane!" Shepard was glad to see the drell; she hadn't had much time to say goodbye to him when she had dropped him off at the Citadel before she returned to Earth to turn the Normandy in. She had been hopeful to keep in contact with him, but the Alliance had made it next to impossible to contact anyone from her old crew.

Thane smiled, walking over to meet Shepard who was already in route. They shook hands; Shepard fought the urge to hug him, but refrained knowing that she'd given him the wrong idea in the past. "When I heard Earth was under attack, I tried to call. I never got through," Thane said as his hand lingered, the concern in his voice heavily prevalent.

Shepard smiled at him, clapping his shoulder. "Don't feel bad—communications to earth are a mess. I'm glad to see that you're staying in shape."

Shepard released his shoulder and Thane took his hand away. "My disease kills slowly. With enough care and a healthy life style, it can be delayed for a few years." His smiled faltered. "Of course my allotted time has come and gone. Now I exercise because it pleases me." Thane motioned to two seats that were recently vacated and the two moved to sit. Shepard was glad to see him, even if she could hear the gurgle of his voice more prominently now; indicating that is disease was advancing. "What are you doing here?" he asked curiously, relaxing into the chair.

Bringing her leg up to cross over her left; she sat back at looked at Thane. "I'm visiting a friend who got hurt protecting me, Ashley."

The drell blinked; a motion that had always fascinated Shepard as the drell blinked with two lids both vertically and horizontally. "The dark haired human woman in intensive care?"

"That's her."

"Ah," he smiled, leaning slightly forward. "She is indeed beautiful."

Shepard eyed him, raising an eyebrow and narrowing her eyes.

Thane chuckled. "Garrus recounted the story of how you drunkenly expressed your feelings for the human when I asked why you were so ill the day that Mordin's singing made you vomit."

Shepard brought a nervous hand up to her neck. _I'm never going to live that down…_

"After seeing her, I can now understand why you feel the way you do," Thane finished.

She blinked a few times, not entirely sure how to respond. It wasn't a surprise that he knew about the drunken event. Most of the crew watched her lose it into her cereal bowl that morning. "Err… thanks, Thane."

Thane continued, unaware of how awkward Shepard suddenly felt. "She will be starting physical therapy with my class soon. If she means something to you, I will help how I can. As long as she is here, consider her under my protection."

The embarrassment and awkwardness suddenly drained from Shepard's extremities. She looked Thane in the eyes, fighting the urge to cry at his words of protection. She abruptly stood and hugged him where he sat, tightly. "I appreciate it, Thane."

Thane brought a tender hand to her elbow and nodded. Shepard broke away, still smiling at the drell. Knowing someone was here to watch over Ashley was a weight lifted that Shepard hadn't even been aware of. There were so many things happening all over the galaxy, she couldn't keep track of all of the things that worried her, making it impossible to sleep.

"I am near the end of my life," Thane smiled. "It is a good time to be generous. Kepral's Syndrome has put most of my other plans on hold."

Shepard smiled at him again. She moved back to her seat and sat. They sat for a while, idly chatting about what Thane had been up to since Shepard turned in the Normandy. It was apparent that his medical condition was deteriorating, but he was in good spirits. He was slowly mending things with Kolyat and keeping them both out of trouble. He was humble as always as he spoke about the people in his physical therapy classes and how determined they all were, and how he admired their resolve to get better.

It was obvious that Thane was glad to see Shepard and that she was glad to see him, but she let him do most of the talking. She'd always enjoyed listening to him, especially when he spoke of the soul versus the body and how the two were different. At first, Shepard had seen it as cowardice, not taking responsibility for his actions; overtime, she slowly started to understand and agree with the drell. She'd done many things in her military career where she was simply the tool to accomplish the task, especially while she was in infantry.

Eventually, the desk clerk came up to Shepard, informing her that Ashley's visitor was about to leave and that she could head back. She gave Thane a hug, the Drell was an awkward hugger, not being used to physical contact of a friendly nature, but she gave him little choice in the matter—she was still so humbled at his offer of protection for Ashley. She promised that the next time she was at the Citadel that she would stop by for another chat.

As she walked through the hospital halls, she was thankful that there wasn't any attention being paid to her. That was one thing she hated about coming to the Citadel: The constant "you're Commander Shepard!" was something that she had grown tired of early on in her career. She rounded a corner, about to signal the door to Ashley's room to open when it slid open on its own. Udina was walking out of the room.

"Shepard," he said rather gruffly.

"Udina," she replied with a stern nod. They had never liked each other. Shepard had always thought he was a spineless snake of a man, and he had never gotten over the fact that Shepard had recommended Anderson as a Councilor over him. Shepard waited for him to finish exiting the room and for the door to close before she continued in. Finally, she looked from the door to the bed that Ashley was propped up on. She looked pretty worn for wear; bruises covered her face still and she looked smaller somehow, as if she wasn't really eating or doing anything to stimulate her muscles. Despite the physical trauma residue, Shepard still smirked as she looked at her; she was still beautiful in Shepard's eyes. "What was that about?" She asked, thumbing towards the door.

Ashley smiled. "You never actually read your emails, do you?"

"I do too!" Shepard retorted playfully, walking forward and taking a seat in the simple chair that was positioned next to Ashley's hospital bed. "You said something about him offering you Spectre status?"

Ashley nodded. "And he's being damn persistent about it, too."

"I take it that you haven't accepted yet, then?"

She gently shook her head, looking away from Shepard. "Not yet. It's an honor and all… but… I don't know. I need to think about it some more."

"It's a big decision," Shepard responded, putting a gentle hand on Ashley's forearm. "Smart to give it some thought."

Ashley looked back to her, looking her in the eyes; the same eyes that had captivated her three years ago. Shepard had never really figured out why she had been so taken by Ashley to begin with. Had she not have been, the last three years would have been a little more simple for her; god knows she was full up on complexity with saving the galaxy from Saren, the collectors, and now the official horde of Reapers. But she had always been stuck on Ashley's beautiful brown eyes and dark hair, and her constant need to quote some old literature, adding another complex layer to her ever full plate.

"How are you feeling?" Shepard asked tentatively, not moving her hand from Ashley's arm. She gently moved her thumb, trying to convey how much she wanted to know.

She gave a small shrug and a heavy sigh. "Honestly, I've been climbing the walls. The nurse has said that my vitals are all good, but they still want me on bed rest. I'm starting to get antsy being cooped up in here with nothing to do but watch the cars drive by."

"Maybe this will help," Shepard offered, moving her other hand up to reveal the present she'd bought. "I picked this up for you. Figured you had some down time."

Ashley shifted on the bed and took the book with both hands. Shepard moved her hand away and leaned slightly back in her chair. "Where did you find this?" Ashley asked excitedly, running her hands over the worn cover of the hard cased book.

"I got lucky at the markets," Shepard smiled; glad to know that Ashley was excited about the gift. "I put the bookmark on Ulysses for you."

Ashley's smile deepened and she reached out her hand for Shepard's. Shepard took it with both her hands and she leaned forward again. Her hand was warm, and soft. She didn't want to let go. Ashley squeezed Shepard's hand and brought the book to her chest. "That's sweet, Shepard. Thank you," she said, her voice ringing full of sincerity. It made Shepard wonder if someone, aside from her father, had ever given her a book of poetry as a gift. By the happy look on her face, Shepard would guess that she was the first to do so. "It must have cost you a fortune," Ashley added, placing the book down in her lap.

Shepard laughed. "Only my first born child. But since that's never going to happen, I'd say I got a pretty good deal."

Ashley laughed. "You're ridiculous. You know that?"

Shepard shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Eh, so I've been told."

Ashley shook her head and then leaned back into her bed, repositioning herself so that she was more on her side so that she could look at Shepard more easily. "The nurse said you checked on me earlier. I guess I was still out cold then."

Shepard nodded. "Yeah, I came to see you as soon as they'd let me in. It was pretty scary, seeing you so beaten up. I couldn't help thinking that it was all my fault."

Ashley narrowed her eyes at Shepard. "What? Skipper, you're the reason I'm alive. Don't think for a minute that I'm in here because of you. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at Cerberus."

"Oh trust me," Shepard started, anger seeping into her voice. "I am." Mad for what they'd done to Ashley. What they'd done to Grissom. What they'd done to Jack all those years ago. And she was finally letting herself get mad that she willingly worked for them, and almost handed over the Collector ship to them. Now, with everything that was happening, she was glad that she'd refused and blown up the ship anyway.

"Good to hear," Ashley said simply—but Shepard knew better. She knew that she was referring to her time with Cerberus and that she'd finally seen the error of it all.

Shepard clenched her jaw. She hadn't wanted to talk about this. "Listen, Ash… I know you're still mad at me for teaming up with Cerberus. But if I hadn't done so, the Reapers would have come sooner. But trust me, please… I'm not with them anymore."

The uncertainty finally hit Ashley expression. "So you're not a part of Cerberus anymore. Case closed. Full stop."

"Ash, it's the truth," Shepard said squeezing her hand with both of her own. "I know that I was an ass on Mars, not letting you ask the questions that you needed to ask. I can't apologize enough for that. But you have to believe me that after the final mission ended and we came back through the Omega 4 relay, I cut all ties with Cerberus and flew the Normandy to Earth."

Ashley was quiet for a long moment. "You've always stood up for what's right, no matter how alone you were doing so. I'm sorry that I doubted you…So you cut all ties. I accept that," Ashley said, her body tensing. She narrowed her eyes and looked Shepard square in the eyes.

Shepard was quiet for a moment. Finally, she asked "Did we cut all ties?" Ashley tilted her head to the side, as if asking for clarification. "I didn't hear from you while I was a guest of the Alliance."

Ashley's face fell and Shepard noticed her jaw clench. "I couldn't face you. I'm not proud of avoiding you, but I just couldn't bring myself to send a message or pick up a comms or stop by… Even when Anderson requested my presence… it was… difficult."

Shepard rubbed her thumb on the back of Ashley's hand. "It's okay. We're past that. Fresh start."

Ashley gave a sad smile, turning slightly away from Shepard. "It's going to take time, Skipper."

"Copy that," Shepard responded, nodding her head a little too vigorously. "But not too long. The bad guys aren't taking coffee breaks."

"Okay, okay. What is this? Healing through guilt?"

They shared a smile; a quiet laugh even escaped Shepard's lips. "Seems to be working." For some reason, out of nowhere, Shepard was reminded of Samantha. She looked out the window as her thoughts formed. What Ashley had said was something that Shepard could hear Samantha saying, in her own witty British fashion. Even in the tense moments that they had had in their brief conversations, Samantha had always been able to make Shepard smile by something she'd said. It was odd, that she should pop into her thoughts while she was sitting with Ashley. She shook her head slightly and glanced back at Ashley, who was also seemingly deep in thought.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, Shepard still holding onto Ashley's hand as she tried figure out what to say. There were so many things that she wanted to ask her, but none of them seemed to be an easy Segway from their previous conversation.

It was Ashley who finally broke the silence. "So—have you found anyone, Skipper?" Her expression changed from her thoughtful one to a genuinely interested one.

"What do you mean?" Shepard asked.

"A woman to come home to? Something's gotta keep you motivated while you're out there fighting for the rest of the galaxy."

Shepard's heart fell and her stomach suddenly felt feverishly empty. How could she find someone when she was still hopelessly in love with the woman in front of her? She knew what she was about to say was probably not going to end well… it never had in the past. "Ash, it's always been you. When we didn't see eye to eye, I gave you as much time as I could. But that's done now. I'm not doing this without you. I need you. You've always been the girl that I've wanted to sweep off of her feet."

Ashley bit her lower lip, not in a sultry way, but in a frustrated, thoughtful kind of way; it was the look she'd given Shepard on so many other occasions that she knew it meant she was trying to figure out how to say what she needed to without outright hurting her feelings. "Skipper, you gotta move on from me. I love you—but like a sister. Even though we've been through some shit with the whole Cerberus thing, I know that you'll always have my back. But you gotta let go and move on... I just don't see you like that."

Shepard clenched her jaw. She'd run this conversation through her head so many times that she always thought she knew what to say to convince Ashley otherwise. But each time the conversation actually happened, Shepard could never remember how she'd handled it in her head while she had been showering or trying to fall asleep. The conversation always went much smoother when Ashley wasn't actually there. "Ash… I've tried to move on from you. I… I just can't," she said, disappointed that this conversation was going to end up just like all of the rest of them. Shepard fought hard to keep her voice level; she'd never cried in front of Ashley and she wanted to keep it that way.

Ashley was quiet for a moment. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, gently squeezing Shepard's hand that was still holding hers. "Skipper, we need to settle this."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't keep pining on after me. Seriously. You're a good friend. Hell, you're probably the closest friend that I have, and I consider you family. But… I'll _**never**_ see you the way that you see me. And I am tired of this conversation. I hate the look in your eyes when I reject you. It seriously kills me to tell you no, but I can't change who I am."

Shepard broke her gaze from Ashley's and looked away, towards her lap. She hated this conversation. They'd had it a handful of times and no matter how it ended up, she could still never move on. "Ash… I…"

"I know, Skipper. I know that you love me. I do. And I love you too, but not in the way that you want. I hate seeing how much I hurt you get every time I tell you no." Ashley moved in her bed, gently pulling her hand out of Shepard's to use it to help her sit up. "So this is what we're going to do. You, right now, are going to kiss me."

Shepard blinked and then her eyes immediately narrowed as she looked up at Ashley. She must have heard her wrong. "Excuse me?"

"You're going to kiss me," Ashley said, slowly articulating each word. The look on her face was dead serious. "And you're going to pour everything that you feel for me into that kiss. And I mean _**everything**_. If I feel like it is something that I might be able to get used to or if there is some mind shattering spark when you do, then I'll give you a try. An honest effort to be with you. But if I don't feel anything—then you need to move on."

Shepard opened her mouth to speak but closed it, not knowing what to say. _How can I pour that much emotion into one kiss without it turning into sex? _she thought. She swallowed hard. _Ashley is in no condition to be having sex…_ She cleared her throat, forcing the thought out of her head and finally said, "Ash… I don't think—"

"Either do it, Shepard," Ashley cut her off. "Or move on. This is the only chance I'm going to give you to change my mind."

Shepard looked at her for a long moment. She'd always dreamed of the moment that she would convince Ashley that all along she was meant to be with her. She'd never once imagined that it would turn out this way. Slowly she found herself nodding. "Alright… deal," she said, standing up from her seat. She nervously licked her lips; she still didn't know how she was going to express everything that she felt for the Lieutenant in one single kiss… and she was, admittedly, horribly out of practice.

Ashley nodded and moved slightly in the bed, making room for Shepard to sit down on the bed next to her and moving the book from her lap to her bed stand. After a few more slow intakes of breath, Shepard sat down, pulling her right leg up on to the bed so that she was still facing Ashley. Ashley looked nervous as she was sitting up the best she could. "Here, why don't you just lie back, Ash," Shepard said, pulling a pillow down.

Ashley eyed her, but obliged. As much as the Lieutenant wanted to be able to sit up right, her body just wasn't able to sustain the position. Shepard brought a hand up to Ashley's face, gently tucking her hair behind her ear and then gently placing her fingertips along her cheek. "Are you sure about this?"

Ashley smiled, looking Shepard in the eyes. "No—but I think it'll settle things," she said nervously.

Shepard tried to think of all the reasons she loved Ashley: her witty since of humor, her determination to prove herself, her honesty, how open she'd always been with her, the comforting feeling she felt whenever she saw her. The list continued, but she tried to think of all of that as she slowly started to lean forward. She'd always imagined their first kiss to be hard, fast, and passionate, but she was afraid to do that, given Ashley's state. She wanted to be gentle, but she didn't think that that would convey anything that she needed to convey.

Looking down at Ashley, just a few inches from her face, Shepard couldn't help but be overwhelmed. Even covered in bruises and obviously exhausted, she was still beautiful to Shepard. In all her years she'd never seen anyone as attractive as Ashley. She was then slightly jolted as Samantha floated back into her mind. _She's just as attractive, if not more so. _She blinked a few times, trying to figure out why she was suddenly in her head—she and Ashley had little in common physically. Sure they both had dark hair, and brown eyes, but that's where the similarities ended. Samantha's smile was brighter, more devilish than Ashley's. And Samantha's face was far more expressive.

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, forcing Samantha's face out of her conscious. She opened her eyes to find Ashley giving her a quizzical stare. She swallowed again. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Ashley smiled and shook her head anxiously. "Only about a hundred times, Skipper. Just hurry up before I change my mind about all of this."

Shepard nodded and leaned forward. She was about an inch or so away from Ashley's lips. "Ash, I lo—"

"Shut up and kiss me," Ashley whispered, her lips briefly touching Shepard's as she spoke.

A shiver ran down Shepard's spine. She'd always hoped to hear those words from Ashley. It was just the motivation that she needed. Their lips finally met, a little harder than Shepard had wanted to as she didn't want to hurt her. Shepard's hand moved into Ashley's hair, pulling her head forward and more into the kiss. Ashley's lips were full, soft, and inviting; everything Shepard had thought that they would be.

The kiss turned slow, their lips moving around each other's trying to find an appropriate rhythm. Ashley's hand went up to Shepard's shoulder as they found a rhythm that was slowly starting to speed up. At her touch, Shepard lightly bit Ashley's bottom lip, causing her to gasp ever-so-slightly. Shepard used that brief moment to slide her tongue into Ashley's mouth. Ashley allowed it, even fighting for a moment to have her own turn.

As they kissed, Shepard couldn't help but feel… empty. Sure, Ashley's lips felt wonderful against hers, but beyond the physical pleasure of kissing her, she wasn't feeling anything else. Her body wasn't reacting how she thought it would; there was no desire compelling her to continue, no outward passion that wanted to start stripping Ashley's clothes off, nothing telling her that this felt right.

She was so confused. She was kissing the woman that she had thought was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, the woman that she'd waited three years for. And there was nothing. She gently started to pull away, and Ashley let her. As Shepard moved away, Ashley blinked a few times, looking around, slightly out of breath, but not at Shepard.

"So… err… How was that?" Shepard asked nervously, coming to a sitting position and bringing her hand away from Ashley's face.

Ashley opened her mouth, closed it and let out a long breath through her nose. "It was nice…"

Shepard gulped. _No… it can't have been the kiss to make her realize she's gay,_ she thought guiltily. _I… I don't want her that way anymore,_ she finally realized. The lack of desire from the kiss made it clear that Shepard had been in love with the _**idea**_ of being with Ashley. Kissing her was how she'd imagine kissing Jack would feel: They both have nice lips, and the kissing would feel nice… but it just wasn't right.

"But," Ashley continued. "Not earth shattering, sexual orientation change worthy," she said, furrowing her brow and frowning, afraid she was going to shatter Shepard's heart.

"Oh thank god," Shepard said, letting out the breath that she'd been holding in and bringing a hand to her chest.

Ashley blinked a few times, a confused smile curling the edges of her mouth. "Hey—I'm a damn good kisser!" she said playfully defensive as she gently hit Shepard in the arm.

Shepard smiled, grabbing Ashley's hand. "Oh, I know you are. I just…" she thought for a moment, looking Ashley in the eyes. Suddenly, all of her pent up sexual attraction towards the girl lying next to her was starting to melt away. "I didn't feel anything, honestly. I thought that I'd feel everything that you're supposed to feel—the spark as they say—but I didn't. You've got a damn good pair of lips, though. I mean, we could always try again," she teased.

"Nice try." They both laughed, all of the tension between them from the last three years slowly starting to fade away. They laughed together for a few long moments, leaning towards each other for support.

Finally their laughter died down, and Shepard looked down at Ashley with a smile. "I'm sorry that I've put you through that for three years."

Ashley shook her head, smiling too. "No worries. So long as we're still friends."

"Nope—I don't want in your pants anymore, no more friendship for you," Shepard teased.

Ashley gently pushed Shepard with her hand. "You're an ass," she laughed. "But thanks. I need something… good. It's been rough."

A somber composure came back over Shepard's face. "I can imagine." The little moments of happiness were always ruined by the fact that they were in the middle of a seemingly impossible war.

Ashley then told Shepard about her family on earth, and how she hadn't been able to get a hold of her mother and sisters. How her sister Sarah was away on her honeymoon, but that was cut short because her marine husband was called back to Earth. Shepard sat and listened, letting Ashley express all of her worries. It was apparent that she had been holding onto the uneasiness for some time now. The conversation then meandered, talking about Ashley's potential promotion to a spectre and how her hardships to get there, back to her family and then to the state of Earth. The rumors that Ashley was hearing were too optimistic to be true, or just out right wild speculation with no hard proof or evidence to back it up.

After about a half an hour, Shepard's Omni-tool beeped, indicating that she had a message. She looked down briefly, seeing that it was from the Normandy (which meant EDI had sent it). It read that the inspection of the Normandy's electrical systems was complete and that the ship and crew were clear for departure. Shepard clenched her jaw and let out a sigh.

"That's never a good sound," Ashley said, nudging the distracted Commander who still sat on the hospital bed with her.

Shepard clicked the Omni-tool to standby, the orange illuminating dissipating into her sleeve, and gently shook her head. She looked down at Ashley, who was looking up at her with a worried expression on her face. The scenario should have been reversed; Ashley was the one who couldn't get a hold of her family and was going through hell by being a capable soldier that was stuck in a medical hospital. But there she was, looking up at Shepard and worried about her. Shepard smiled, gently squeezing Ashley's hand. "I just have to get back to it. Even though I'd rather stay here."

Ashley squeezed back, repositioning herself slightly on the hospital bed. "You don't have to leave this instant, Skipper. I know you. You don't let yourself have any down time. Stay for a bit longer, okay?" she said.

She wasn't asking Shepard to stay, she was telling her to. Shepard grinned; Ashley knew her better than most and knew that if left on her own, Shepard would go non-stop until she dropped. She knew that it wasn't healthy for her, or good for the mission—but the dire situation of the galaxy made it hard for her to justify down time for herself, even if she mandated it for the rest of her crew.

"Come on, Skipper. Fifteen more minutes won't hurt."

Shepard finally nodded. "Yeah, you're right." She didn't know when she'd be able to see Ashley again, let alone when she'd be coming back to the Citadel. They were quiet for a few moments, Shepard lost in thought about the war and how conversations with loved ones seemed petty and selfish. Ashley kept moving, trying to find a comfortable position in the stiff hospital bed.

"I have to ask though," Ashley started, breaking Shepard out of her thoughts. "Who were you thinking about before you kissed me?"

Shepard blinked hard, and then looked at Ashley in the eyes, eyebrow raised. It took her a moment to realize what Ashley was referring to. The kiss had been a while ago and it was an odd thing to randomly bring up. She narrowed her eyes, remembering that Samantha had popped into her head. "What makes you think that I was thinking of someone?" she asked, a hint of embarrassment coming through in her tone.

Ashley smirked. "Oh please, Shepard. I know you too well to let that look go unnoticed."

Shepard narrowed her eyes and ever-so-slightly shook her head. "What look?"

"The look you get when you're thinking of an attractive woman."

"How do you know I wasn't thinking about you?" Shepard retorted, not wanting to admit Samantha had crossed her mind.

"Because you looked surprised," Ashley said, using her elbows to help her sit up a little more. "Like someone had suddenly run through your thoughts. And your focus was way out there."

Shepard took pity on Ashley as she struggled to find a comfortable sitting position. She stood from the bed and walked to the head of it and tried to figure out how to adjust it. "Okay—so you caught me," she finally admitted as she found the lever to move the back of the bed up. She moved it slowly, giving Ashley enough time to move with it, into an upright position. When it clicked in place, she gave it a test tug to make sure it wasn't going anywhere, and then moved back to the chair beside the bed, giving Ashley room to relax.

Ashley finished adjusting herself, finally looking comfortable in the stiff hospital bed. "So, gimme the details. I mean, if another woman crossed your mind right before you kissed _**me**_, of all people, she's gotta mean something to you—or have one hell of a body."

Shepard laughed at the way Ashley made herself sound irresistible. "There are no rules saying that I can't like more than one person at a time."

"Mhmmm," Ashley sounded. "So why haven't you had a girlfriend for the past three years."

Shepard mock glared at her. "Alright, alright. Jeez, you're relentless," she said, leaning back in the chair and resting her feet on the understructure of the bed. "So what if I haven't had a thing for anyone else but you… I'm not _**that**_ hopeless."

"Ri-ight," Ashley raised a cheerful eyebrow. "So, who's the lucky lady who has caught your attention?"

"Good god, Ash. You're as bad as a teenager," Shepard said with a flat look. She then smiled, unable to hold her attempt at being stern. She let out a breath and finally relented. "Her name is Samantha."

Ashley's body perked, obviously interested to hear more about her. "How'd you meeeet?" If she hadn't been confined to a bed, Shepard was sure she'd be leaning on a table, chin propped up on the back of both her hands as she asked questions like an over exaggerated school girl.

Shepard chuckled. "And you say _**I'm**_ ridiculous."

"Because you are," she shot back. "You're not wriggling out of this, Skipper. I want the dirty details, dammit."

Shepard laughed. When they had been aboard the original Normandy, back when they were fighting Saren and Reapers were still an unknown, Ashley had been the person to point out that Shepard was terrible about talking about herself. She'd call her out every time she deflected something and would force her to talk about it. At first it had been intimidating; gradually it became Shepard's saving grace, being able to tell Ashley anything and everything. "Alright, alright. She's my Communications Specialist aboard the Normandy."

Ashley tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly. "Wait… British?"

Shepard blinked and looked at her. "You know my comms specialist?"

"I saved your ass with Joker and Vega back on Earth, remember?" Ashley said defiantly. "There was comms specialist named Samantha in the middle of retrofitting the galaxy map when we forced the Normandy out of the holding dock. She's the reason we had communication with you and Anderson."

"Really?"

Ashley nodded. "Yeah—she works fast. Cute little thing, too," she winked. Shepard pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Ashley. "What? At least you don't have to describe her to me now."

Shepard shrugged. "Fair."

"Alright—so spit it out! You've always been about more than just looks. What's got you caught up on her?"

Shepard chewed her lower lip. She knew that she could tell Ashley everything, be she was hesitant to own up to how angry she became after Ashley was hospitalized. She finally let out a breath and began telling Ashley the story of the first night that they met. How Samantha had come up to introduce herself but instead found Shepard punching the wall; how she got Shepard to stop and how she ran to get medical supplies. She then told her that the next morning she watched the surveillance from her room to see what happened after she'd fallen asleep. She explained how perplexed she had been as to why Samantha had kissed her in her sleep and how she adamantly wanted her off of the ship. How EDI had interfered and then she recounted their almost-kiss moment when Samantha was trying to make her feel better. She recounted the time in the observation deck how Samantha had walked in to find her yet again at her worst—brooding over the recent mission to Menae and how she fumbled over her words and blushed incessantly. She told Ashley about her random need to tell Samantha to not let the war change her, as she was perfect the way that she was. She then continued, telling her how she'd noticed that she'd seen Samantha blush again after winking at her when she was walking by with Jack, and after thanking her for setting up Sanders with a comms link to Anderson. How she'd clipped her shoulder on the wall because she had been staring at Shepard as she passed. She told her about the shuttle bay brawl with Jack and how she'd tested to see if Samantha was looking.

"After the fight I went over to talk to her; it was the first conversation we'd had where she seemed completely at ease," Shepard finished.

Ashley nodded, as she'd kept quiet through most of Shepard's retelling. "And?" she inquired, wanting to hear the rest.

Shepard clenched her jaw. "Well—someone pointed out that James was in a sour mood. Long story short… what started off as a harmless sparing session turned into an all-out fight that ended with me storming out of the shuttle bay." Shepard deliberately left the whole _"he turned into a batarian and I almost smashed his face in"_ part. Ashley didn't need to hear that. She had enough on her plate with her family. She didn't need to add the stress of the fact that her friend might possibly be losing her sanity. "Then there was this whole thing with EDI, the ship's AI, taking over the mech unit that we found on Mars—"

"What?!" Ashley interrupted.

Shepard flinched. "Oh yeah… um if you come aboard the Normandy—the mech you see isn't the same one that almost killed you. It's a different AI, EDI… So don't shoot her on sight, okay?"

Shepard saw Ashley's nostrils flare and her jaw clench. "We'll save that for another conversation," she said sternly. "What about Samantha?"

Shepard leaned back in her chair again, repositioning her feet on the bed understructure. "Well—she seemed really down after the whole incident with EDI cleared. I can't tell if it is something to do with me or if it is something else."

"Have you tried asking her?" Ashley offered.

Shepard shook her head. "I haven't had the chance. I spoke to her while Liara was there, immediately after EDI left to go to the cockpit. But she excused herself to go catch some sleep not too long after we started talking and I haven't had the chance to talk to her since."

Ashley was quiet for a long time, mulling over the information that Shepard had given her. "So you like her?"

Shepard let out a frustrated snarl, running a hand through the loose strands of hair that framed her face, pushing them towards the back of her head. "I don't know, Ash. She's nice—but I don't think I know how to read her. She's witty and sarcastic—so I don't know if she's flirting with me or just being friendly or if she's just nervous… she's always fumbling over her words or fidgeting with her hands… but she's never served under a CO before or been in active front line duty."

"Oh honey," Ashley said, like mother would to an innocent child, putting a hand down to touch Shepard's forearm. "She isn't nervous because you're her CO. She's nervous because she's either into you or afraid to be alone with such a dangerous soldier."

"Probably the latter," Shepard mumbled.

"Hardly, Skipper. You're too nice to be seen as intimidating. And besides," she continued. "She's probably confused as to what _**you**_ think about _**her**_. Remember how Liara and Kaiden all thought you had feelings for them?"

Shepard grimaced. "Garrus too, I've come to find out… and most of my team from the Collector mission."

Ashley laughed. "Oh you heart throb you," she said between laughter. It got Shepard to smile. "Jokes aside, you're a caring person, Shepard. It's easy for people who don't know you to assume that you're being nice because you're interested in them. I know you. You genuinely care about everyone who serves with you, no matter if they're groundside with you or shipside supporting you," she paused, squeezing Shepard's forearm slightly. "Samantha's a smart girl, if what I saw was any indication. She might have noticed how you talk to other people and just doesn't know what to think."

Shepard let out another sigh and shook her head. "It's not like it matters anyway."

Ashley raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because we're both Alliance, Ash. I'm her CO. Ever read the fraternization policy?" she retorted. "I could get fired if I let anything form between her and I." Ashley laughed, pulling her hand away from Shepard's forearm to cover her mouth. Shepard narrowed her eyebrows at Ashley's sudden laughter. "What?!"

"I'm sorry," she said, feigning off the remaining laughter in her voice. It lingered in her eyes. "But that didn't stop you from trying with me!"

Shepard chuckled and sat up, bringing her feet back to the ground. "Pft, that's different. It was harmless because I knew you weren't interested," she joked. But Ashley made a point. It hadn't stopped her before, so why did it bother her now? And the Alliance would never fire her while there was an active galactic war raging.

"Screw the regulations, Skipper. I know you've had it rough, with all the Cerberus bullshit that you've had to go through and basically living your life for the Alliance these last six months. But don't write this Samantha girl off just because of some military regulation. I mean, you're a Spectre… aren't they above that kind of trivial regulatory bureaucratic bullshit, anyway?"

Shepard skeptically eyed her, thinking that she sounded an awful lot like Jack just then. "Maybe… you got your eye on someone for when you go Spectre?" she playfully retorted.

"Nah—but that Vega on your crew looks mi-ighty fine," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively but playfully.

Shepard faked throwing up on the floor, getting more laughter out of Ashley. Shepard's Omni-tool beeped again. Ashley quieted her laughter while Shepard quickly checked the message. This time it was from Joker. All the crew was aboard and they were simply waiting on her. "Dammit… I really need get going, Ash."

Ashley gave a sad smile, but nodded. "Yeah—gotta save the universe while I'm out of commission."

Shepard smiled, standing from her seat and put a gentle hand on Ashley's shoulder. "When you're out of here, you'll have to come and help me save it."

"Just like old times?" She asked, grabbing Shepard's hand with her own.

"Just like old times," Shepard nodded. She gave Ashley's shoulder a squeeze and then moved her hand. "I should get back to it."

"Hey, before you go, promise me two things?" Ashley asked, not letting go of Shepard's hand.

"Anything."

"First," she started. "Don't refuse your feelings for Samantha. If the feeling is there, go for it."

Shepard waited for her to continue, but her expression was expectant. "I promise," she said quietly.

"And secondly, open up more. I know how you work. You hate talking about yourself. Let her get to know you, tell her things just because you can or because it fits in the conversation."

Shepard clenched her jaw. "I'll try," she said.

Ashley tugged on her hand and looked Shepard straight into the eyes. "None of this _I'll try_ bullshit, Skipper. You know I'm right."

Shepard chuckled, and nodded. "I know you are. But you know me, I hate talking about myself."

Ashley pursed her lips and shook her head. "You're hopeless. Promise me you'll at least make an effort to open up to her. Even if you two just become good friends."

Shepard closed her eyes and nodded. "I promise to try." Shepard leaned down and kissed Ashley on the forehead. "Now hurry up and get better. I'm going to need you out there sooner rather than later," Shepard said as she straightened her posture. She winked. "And that's an order, LC."

Ashley threw up a mock salute. "Sir yes sir," she said playfully back. "Stay safe, ok?"

"I always do," Shepard said. With one final squeeze to Ashley's hand and a smile, she finally released her and turned to walk away. She didn't want to go, but she knew that she had bigger things that needed her attention. As much as she simply wanted to stay and reminisce with Ashley, she knew that hundreds of people were dying every minute that she sat idly chatting.

As she walked down the hall of Huerta Memorial, she couldn't help but think of what Ashley had said about Samantha. Did she really have time to try and see if something could come between the two of them? It just seemed like another thing to worry about on her already full plate. She only had so much mental capacity to spare.

As she waited for the elevator to arrive, she had a startling revelation: _all the time you spent musing about Ashley has freed up._ She chuckled to herself, still baffled at how little she'd felt from kissing the girl she'd been longing after for three years. She was surprised how quickly she was coming to terms with the rejection this time and how quickly her mind jumped to Samantha.

_Maybe Ash has a point,_ she thought as the elevator doors slide open, releasing a large group of doctors. Shepard waited patiently and then boarded the elevator alone. _Maybe seeing where things go with Samantha could be what I need…_

* * *

The Normandy was finally underway. Shepard had been caught up at the docking bay for an additional fifteen minutes as she had run into Miranda. Shepard was caught off guard when she heard Miranda call after her, her iconic Australian accent carrying over the constant hum of voices and ship engines. It was good to see her, especially knowing that she was alive after her abrupt resignation with Cerberus. Miranda was as mysterious as Shepard imagined people perceived her, not really ever talking about herself aside from her genetic tailoring. Shepard considered her a friend, not as close a friend as Jack, but still a friend. Miranda voiced her worry about not being able to get ahold of her sister and Shepard offered her any help that she could provide. She even made a mention of Samantha, saying that she might be able to establish a link if one was found. Miranda had graciously declined any and all help, but said if she was in need of it, or if she needed a door kicked down, she'd let her know.

As quickly as Miranda has appeared, she disappeared back into the docking bay. _She really has a talent for hiding_, Shepard had thought with a smile as she boarded the Normandy. _I'll keep that in mind if I ever want to get away from it all. Maybe after this war is over._

She was now up in her quarters, pouring over the numerous emails she'd received from the war summit party. They were becoming impatient, wondering why Shepard and crew hadn't showed up yet. She was subconsciously kicking herself for staying so long at the hospital. She'd been selfish, wanting to spend as much time with Ashley as she could; but the whole galaxy was depending on her actions. She knew that she needed the down time, if the last few days of her array of personal events were to be any indication; but she could never justify it after the fact when she came back to the stockpile of emails queued in her inbox.

She'd just finished reading an email from Urdnot Wrex informing her that he would be present at the summit when Joker's voice sounded over the comms channel. "Commander, Dr. Chakwas wants to see you."

Shepard put the data pad she'd been using to read her emails down ungraciously and immediately started rubbing her temples with her forefingers. _I don't have time for Chakwas. _She took in few breaths before responding. "Joker, tell her that I'm busy."

"Commander," Dr. Chakwas voice suddenly sounded. "As the medical professional aboard this ship, who _**you**_ reinstated, might I add, I demand that you come and see me."

Shepard cringed. She ran her hands over her face before she let them fall to her lap. "On my way," she said dejectedly.

The comms speakers went quiet, indicating that Chakwas had disconnected the channel from her end. Shepard shook her head and stood. It wasn't that she disliked Chakwas. She rather enjoyed the salt and peppered woman. She was the mother type of the ship and was a damn good doctor. She had no problem going to socialize with her, like she used to do while serving under Cerberus. But she still had an apprehension towards doctors from her time after Elysium.

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair and then turned to leave her cabin.

Dr. Chakwas was waiting expectantly in the med bay, standing a few feet in front of her desk with her active Omni-tool glowing at her touch. Shepard walked through the doors, the ever familiar _whoosh_ of the doors displacing a few strands of hair from behind her ear.

"Ah, Shepard," Chakwas said, looking up from her Omni-tool, dropping her arm to her side. "I'm glad you made it."

"Did I have a choice?" Shepard retorted, shoving her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

"It was either you come to me, or I hunt you down somewhere on the ship," Chakwas smiled. "I feel that you've been avoiding me."

Shepard walked further into the med bay, leaning on one of the exam tables. "I've just been busy."

"As have we all," Chakwas said darkly. She was quiet for a moment before she moved to stand in front of Shepard. She reactivated her Omni-tool. "I'm going to do a quick scan of your cybernetics."

Shepard narrowed her eyebrows. She knew that that wasn't the only reason she'd called her down here, but she went along with it. "Something wrong with them?"

"I'd like to hope not," she said, starting the scan. "Considering how much money Cerberus poured into putting them into you, I'll wager that they'll last long after you've passed from old age."

Shepard laughed darkly. "Right. I'll be lucky if I see my next birthday."

Chakwas didn't respond. She tapped her Omni-tool a few times, and ran a few more body scans. "Everything seems to be in working order. I'm glad the cybernetics provides you with fast healing, as I see no bruises from yesterday's events."

Shepard shrugged. She still felt sore. "What else did you want to talk to me about?" She asked, not wanting to force Chakwas to skirt around whatever it was that was bothering her.

Chakwas let out a sigh, dropping her Omni-tool side to cross over her stomach, her other arm resting on it as she brought her hand up to her temple. "Shepard, I'm worried about your mental health."

"What?!" Shepard asked a little too shocked for her liking. "Why?" She demanded after a moment. She knew that Chakwas had seen what had happened in the shuttle bay. Maybe that was all that she was referring to. Shepard knew that she had mental issues, and probably wasn't technically fit for duty, but that was part of the reason she never spoke to doctors about it. She'd found ways to hide it from everyone else, and she thought she'd been successful at doing so…with the exception of the last few days.

Chakwas brought her hand down to her chin. "You've been a soldier for some time… you've seen horrific things. You've been through more than most soldiers can even begin to imagine."

"So have you," Shepard said quickly, motioning to her with her right hand while it was still deep in her hoodie pocket. "You were abducted by collectors and are alive to tell about it."

"Only thanks to you, Shepard," she offered back with a sad smile. "But that's hardly the same as what you've been through in your lifetime."

"Two life times, remember?" she responded bitterly. "I came back from the dead."

"Precisely," Chakwas said, dropping her hands to her sides. "Tell me, do you feel guilty that you were given a second chance?"

Shepard's jaw immediately clenched. She looked to the ground, not wanting to look at Dr. Chakwas for fear of showing just how guilty she felt.

"Shepard?" she prodded.

Shepard let out a long breath. Not breaking her staring contest with the floor. She's done her max output of personal sharing with Ashley today. With Ashley, it was easy. But opening up to Chakwas was entirely different. Finally, she said, "Yeah."

Chakwas let her remain silent for a few moments. "Do you feel guilty?"

This was the last thing that Shepard wanted to talk about. She was already so behind in her correspondences with the war summit and was constantly getting updated mission assignments about suspicious activities of Cerberus. "Yes, Karin," she started bitterly as she began to clench her hands in effort to suppress the hot feeling behind her eyes. "I feel guilty that I was given a second chance and so many others weren't. I feel guilty that I squandered that second chance and we're still not ready for the Reapers. I feel guilty that I've had to hear of the deaths of good men and women while I run around playing politician. I feel guilty tha—"

"Shepard, that's enough," Chakwas interject sternly bringing up a hand with her palm pacing outwards toward Shepard. "That train of thought is a slippery slope that is impossible to climb back out of."

Shepard's hands had gone into tight fists in her pockets, and her forearms were beginning to tremble from the anger of what she'd said. Thankfully, the hotness behind her eyes did not yield any tears. There was just anger, and confusion, and guilt. There was no reason for her to be alive. She was nothing special. The Illusive Man could have brought anyone back to life, but he had chosen her for some unknown reason. And coming back hadn't made a damn bit of difference. They were still no more ready for the Reapers today than they were while they had fought the collectors. All Shepard had done was give the galaxy more time to sit and do nothing but call her crazy.

"Who do you talk to?" Chakwas asked abruptly.

Shepard's eyes darted from the spot she'd been looking at on the floor to meet Chakwas' eyes. "Excuse me?"

Chakwas let out a quiet sigh, gathering her hands in front of her stomach. "I'm no psychologist, Shepard, but talking is a healthy form of releasing pent up thought. As I know that you're aware of, given your medical history."

_Of course she's seen my records._ Shepard grimaced, looking away from Chakwas again. _I'm sure there are detailed records saying just how much talk therapy I had to go through to be considered fit for duty. Even then I probably shouldn't have been released…_she thought darkly. _After Elysium… I should have never seen the battlefield again. But no… the Alliance needed me because they think I'm something special, just like the Illusive Man thought. They all probably think that I don't have any emotional instability. That I can kill all day long and sleep like a baby at night. _Shepard jaw continued to clench, making the muscles around her face and neck flex. _If only they all knew how much I doubted every action I've taken…_

"So, who do you talk to?" Chakwas sounded.

Shepard forced herself to move her jaw, releasing the tension. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her composure before speaking. She quickly counted to ten, and then let out a long breath, opening her eyes to then meet Chakwas' again. "Um… no one, I guess."

"No one at all? Ever?"

"Not recently, no," Shepard admitted. Trying to make a stab at a joke, she added, "Everything usually just boils and boils until it explodes… then I feel sorry for whoever is in the room." The look on Chakwas' face was not mentally scoffed to herself. _Samantha would have laughed…_

"Is there someone usually in the room when that happens?"

"No." She decided that trying to make light of the conversation wasn't going to get her anywhere. And she desperately wanted to get away from the conversation. "Usually I'm alone."

"Has anything like what happened in the shuttle bay happened before?" she asked, crossing her arms over her stomach.

"No," Shepard lied.

"Alright, Shepard. As your medical professional aboard to Normandy, and as your friend, I think you need to find someone that you can talk to." The look on Chakwas' face then changed. She was no longer the stern military doctor. She was the matronly friend who was genuinely concerned. "Someone that you can divulge everything that you're feeling to."

Before she could stop herself, Shepard laughed. One singular laugh. "I think if I did that, that person wouldn't be able to cope or they'd lose faith in our mission. If I told anyone half of the doubts that run through my head on a daily basis, everyone would jump ship and start hoping that some act of god would come to save them all." It came off more sarcastically than she'd meant it to, but it was honestly what she worried about.

"That's why you choose wisely," Chakwas countered. "What about Williams?"

Shepard immediately shook her head, taking her hands out of her pockets to cross them over her stomach. "No… she's going through hell right now with the death of her sister's husband. I can't add my issues onto hers. I'm the one whose there for her."

"So who's there for you?"

Shepard's racing thoughts suddenly stopped. She blinked slowly. What Chakwas said rang similar to what Ashley had told her earlier. Not exactly so, but enough. She let out a sigh, running through the list of people aboard the Normandy in her head. Liara was a no, James was a no, and so were Garrus, EDI, and Joker. She still wasn't sure if she wanted to subject Samantha to it all. "… You?" she finally offered up, defeated at her short list.

Chakwas gave a warm smile, followed by a quiet chuckle. "True—I am. But would you really feel comfortable telling me?"

Shepard shrugged and shook her head. "I really wouldn't feel comfortable telling anyone the things that run through my head."

"Well," Chakwas started, bringing a thoughtful hand to her chin again. "I can always inquire to the whereabouts of Kelly Chambers and see if she's available to come aboard."

"Oh please don't," Shepard begged, paling slightly, her arms falling slightly as she cringed away from the doctor.

Chakwas' eyebrows rose in a questioning manner. "Why ever not?"

"She always… given me the creeps," Shepard admitted sheepishly, not meeting Chakwas' gaze.

Before her elegant hand could cover her mouth, a guttural laugh escaped Chakwas' lips. "Why on earth would you say that?"

Shepard felt squeamish, never having told anyone how the Yeoman had made her feel uncomfortable. "I dunno… she always seemed to be trying to sexualize everyone somehow. She was nice… but she also practically worshiped Cerberus. I'd really rather not have her on board."

"Fair enough, Shepard," a twinkle of laughter still in her eye. Chakwas brought her hand down from her chin to rest atop the other crossed over her stomach. "Then who do you think you're going to start talking to?"

Shepard swallowed hard. She knew who she wanted to talk to. She wanted to talk to the honeyed skin Comms Specialist who smelt of tea and who could calm her down in an instant. But she didn't want to subject her to the constant doubt that floated through her head on a regular basis. In that moment, she admitted to herself that she indeed liked the comms specialist. She'd never wanted to shield someone from the horrific truths of war the way that she wished she could for Samantha. She was a perfect woman just as she was. The things in Shepard's thoughts… those demons would do nothing good for the comms specialist. She was willing to get to know Samantha, to flirt and maybe something more eventually… but she didn't want her to see any more of her instability than she already had.

"Seriously, Karin, I'm fine. I've cooped this long."

"Shepard, I must insist. You couldn't keep yourself in check in the shuttle bay yesterday," She put a hand up to quiet Shepard's rebuttal. "I know that you had some sort of post-traumatic flash back. You need to talk with someone. If not for you, do it for the safety of your crew."

Shepard felt the blood drain from her face. She was well aware of the fact that had had PTSD. Everything pointed to it. She just didn't want to hear it or have Chakwas officially diagnose her. She'd be decommissioned if it hit Alliance HQ.

Shepard finally let out a sigh and said, "For now… Is it alright if I just come to you?"

"That's fine with me, Shepard," Chakwas started, eyeing the commander suspiciously. "But are you going to come to me on your own will, or am I going to have to make appointments for you to keep?"

Shepard mulled over the options for a quick moment. She'd never come on her own accord. "Appointments will probably work better," she admitted.

Chakwas nodded, moving her arms to access her Omni-tool. She pressed a few buttons, typing something in. "You're to report to me first thing in the morning day after next," she said in a matter-o-fact tone.

"Yes ma'am," Shepard nodded. After a moment, realizing there was nothing left to say, Shepard turned and walked out of the med bay, fully knowing she didn't intend to keep the appointment.

* * *

**A/N:** I feel like this chapter is a little subpar in comparison to previous chapters. I blame my sheer overwhelming amount of writing homework I've had the last few months. I might go back through and edit it more over winter break, making it not so flat, but I wanted to get you guys something to let you know that I'm alive and that this story isn't dead in the water.

I'd love to know everyone's thoughts on Shepard and Ashley's relationship, along with any and all other comments you may have.

Thanks for sticking with me through this. Like I've said in previous posts, this WILL be written to completion and I appreciate your comments, favorites, and follows. Cheers lovelies!


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